Continuus
by Shibby-One
Summary: A collection of short oneshots and drabbles about Danny and his friends and family. 46: They hated, they loved, they're dying.
1. We Belong Together

_I've seen a whole bunch of authors have just a collection of short drabbles, and I, personally, LOVE reading them. That, and they're good for trying out story ideas, different ways of writing and different points-of-view. Anyway, there are times when I just need to unwind and write things, so I'll post all of those short things in one file instead of having a billion one shots here on my account, heh. _**Continuus** _means 'connected together' in Latin, since it's a bunch of drabbles about Danny and his friends and loved ones. Some of them were inspired by songs, some other fanfics, some from the '100 Themes Challenge' that I'm currently doing on deviantART (under the same name). And various others. So, I hope you enjoy them.  
_

* * *

**We Belong Together**  
Rating: G_  
A Danny Phantom fanfiction_**  
**

* * *

"Hey," she said casually. 

"Hi," he replied back.

A touch, a kiss. Fingers slid into fingers and bodies curved into bodies. A warm embrace, with sweet fragrances surrounding them from the bonfire.

Around them, their entire graduating class all sat in the soft grass, a warm evening in early June. It was just days before they graduated from Casper High School and entered the world.

And so, they upheld the Senior Bonfire tradition. Only seniors were allowed, and when they all arrived, the senior superlatives were announced.

"I wonder if anyone voted for anything for me," Tucker said, sitting down next to his best friends. Sam sat up, her hand clasped in Danny's. Sam had come a little late, having been held back by her parents and checking over her robe measurements.

"Can you believe it?" Danny said. "I mean, we're _graduating._"

"It _is_ hard to believe," Tucker replied. "It's hard to believe that we lived through to senior year."

"It's hard to believe that Danny actually passed senior year," Sam quipped, grinning at her friends. "Or that any of us did."

"I dunno, senior year was oddly… calm," Tucker said. "Comparatively to the first three years."

"Lets review," Danny said, straightening up. He held out his hand, moving closer to the leaping flames so his friends could see.

"Last year, junior year – we had _major_ Vlad issues."

"But they were infrequent," Sam said. "And besides, it was more like you doing publicity runs in the Ghost Zone than actually fighting."

"Yeah, Danny, that was when we made friends with some ghosts," Tucker said. "Interesting, I never though I'd say I was _friends_ with ghosts."

"Okay, well, sophomore year—"

"—was pretty crappy," Sam supplied. She smiled and leaned against his arm. "That was odd for us, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it only took you guys _forever_ to finally go out," Tucker said. "God, it felt like you two would _never_ go anywhere. I swear, the entire school was just _waiting _for you two to start dating."

"Well, there was that," Danny said, remembering how awkward the entire year had been, "and there was all the ghosts that would randomly appear, do _nothing_, then disappear…"

"What about Freshman year?" Sam asked. "That year was okay… until Danny got his ghost powers."

"So that was, what, a couple weeks?" Tucker said sarcastically. Danny laughed.

"Okay, so that year sucked, too."

"_Yeah._ It did."

"But c'mon, we're here now, what does it matter?" Danny said, putting his arm around Sam. She smiled.

"Okay, everyone, we have our senior class superlatives!" a voice said. Everyone turned to face their class president, a spunky girl who had a 3.87 average and was accepted into three Ivy League schools.

"Now, we have our traditional superlatives, like funniest people, most likely to succeed, class couple, and all those, and we have our own personal ones, like—"

"—most likely to be in a ghost attack," someone said from the back of the group. Everyone chuckled, Tucker nudging Danny in his side.

"I think you have that one wrapped up," he said. Danny dazed out while listening to the superlatives, not expecting to hear his own name. When people were called, they were ushered in front of the fire to show off what they'd won – best smile, best laugh, worst car. He never expected to hear his name called off for anything.

"Okay, okay, relax," the class president was saying after the funniest people had shown off their skills. "Next we have class couple, and, by a _landslide_ amount of votes, our class couple is – Danny Fenton and Sam Manson!"

Danny opened his eyes in complete surprise as this news was met with cheers. Tucker pushed his friends up and they went to the fire, still a bit shocked they'd won anything.

"The vote was practically unanimous," she said to them softly, winking. The two of them stood before their cheering peers, a little nervous and confused.

"What are we supposed to do, exactly?" Sam asked. The girl shrugged.

"I dunno, thank them or something?" she replied. Sam was about to say something when something hit her full force.

More like when _Danny_ hit her full force. He had suddenly wrapped his arms around her small body, and, dipping her down, had kissed her full on the lips, completely taking her by surprise. At first she blinked in confusion, but closed her eyes and melted into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Amidst the cheers of their classmates, they became enveloped in a world all their own; each other.

* * *

_Inspired by the song 'We Belong Together' by Gavin DeGraw, easily one of the most romantic songs I've ever heard.  
_


	2. Lean On Me

_I just wrote a crapload of these last night after working on artwork for hours, so here's another one.  
_

* * *

**Lean On Me**  
Rating: G  
_A Danny Phantom fanfiction_

* * *

Someone was giggling. 

Danny opened his eyes groggily, groaning slightly. He was at the edge of his bed, his arm hanging off the bed. He rolled over and felt the soft, warm body of the person sleeping next to him.

The giggles pervaded the room again.

"Sam," Danny muttered, nudged his face into the back of her neck. "Saaaaam."

"Danny?" Sam said in a soft voice, waking up. "What time is it?"

"I don't know, but someone's awake for you," he replied, wrapping his arm around her. Sam opened her eyes and rolled over in his arms, placing her hands on his chest.

"Morning," she said, smiling.

Suddenly, the door to their room creaked open and three small forms bound into the room, two of them leaping onto the bed.

"Time to get up!" the first one said, rolling in between both Danny and Sam in a pink nightgown. Sam laughed as she sat up, embracing the small figure. Danny pulled the covers over his head, prompting the little one to pull on the blankets.

"Daddy!" the little girl squealed, pushing on his form underneath the blanket. "It's time to get up, Daddy!"

"No it isn't," Danny said under his blankets, his voice muffled. "Sam, your daughters are up."

"Last time I checked, they were your daughters, too," Sam said, the littler child climbing into her lap. The first girl, barely older than six, sat cross legged between her parents, her black hair falling into her face.

"Mommy!" a voice cried from the end of the bed, a little strawberry-blond boy climbed up, crawling over to his sisters. The little girl in Sam's lap clung to her mother, her auburn hair tousled more than it normally was.

"Lilith, make some room for your brother," Sam ordered, and the little five-year-old looked up at her mother with watery eyes.

"Yeah, Lil, let Pete sit!" the oldest said.

"Ailidh, knock it off."

"Like I said – _you're_ kids are up, Sam." Sam grinned and reached out and placed her hand on the covers, drawing them back. She was met with Danny's big blue eyes, half hiding beneath his pillow.

"Well, you had a hand in having them too, you know," Sam said in a playful tone. "And you weren't complaining _then_, were you?"

"They didn't giggle then," Danny muttered as Ailidh stood up and promptly sat on his back.

"Oh yeah?" Danny said, and suddenly he turned over and grabbed the little girl, tickling her stomach. She screamed with laughter as he held her in his arms, and Sam laughed as he grabbed Lilith into the mix too.

"Oh, crap, now they're t-tickling me back!" he said as the two girls ran their little fingers over his arms, where they knew he was ticklish. Sam smiled and held her three-year-old son in her lap, where he sucked his thumb and watched his older sisters tickling his father.

Finally the giggling heap had tired out, and Ailidh slid under the covers between her parents, Lilith following suit. Danny sighed and laid down next to them, tapping Ailidh's nose.

"It's five a.m.," Danny said to the girls. "That means we all get to sleep for at least two more hours."

"Okay!" Ailidh replied, and she snuggled into her fathers large arms. Danny closed his eyes and protected his oldest daughter, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon. Pete yawned and curled up into his mother, and Sam watched all the people she loved fall asleep in the early morning hours.

* * *

_Inspired by the song 'Lean On Me' by Bill Withers. Thanks for reading!  
_


	3. Soldiers: 1

_I have a_ _school vacation this week, and I just got surgery, so I haven't been able to do much but write. When school starts again you won't see these for awhile, but they're here so I figure, might as well post 'em, right? Right. Part one of two._**  
**

* * *

** Soldiers (One)**  
Rating: PG_  
A Danny Phantom fanfiction _

* * *

His breathing was the only sound in the entire room. He didn't dare move for a moment, for waking the young woman beside him. When he was sure she was fast asleep, he moved slowly, pushing the blanket off of him and putting it back into place. She moved a little bit, but didn't wake. 

He sighed and pulled the curtains all the way closed, grabbing his shirt off of his chair as he moved. He slid his shoes into a pair of thick, steel-toed army boots and grabbed his thick jacket from the back of the door.

He bit his lower lip, staring down at her. She laid silently, her hair askew over her face. He contemplated for a moment, then reached over her and pushed her hair behind her ear. As he did so, he moved the blanket a little bit and saw it. He saw her right hand resting gently on her slowly growing abdomen, her left hand curled beside her head on her pillow.

He bent down and kissed her cheek, lingering for a moment, basking in her smell and warmth. He then laid down a thick envelope on the pillow beside her, underneath her hand.

He stood up straight, unable to keep a straight face, unable to keep the tears from rolling down his face in the darkness of night. He took his left hand and slid his wedding band off, and contemplated leaving it. Did he want to let her have it to remember him? Or did he need it for incentive?

He sighed. He placed it on the pillow beside her. Just the image of her, lying here in the darkness and silence was enough incentive for him.

He reached out and gently placed his hand on her abdomen, feeling the child that she would one day give birth to.

In silence, he took the rose he gave her just the day before and placed it beneath her fingers, the thorns having been cleaned off. He laid his face on her cheek for a moment, trying to keep his tears from wetting her and waking her up.

"I'm doing it for you," he whispered. "If I don't do this…" he trailed off, standing up straight. A bright flash of light surrounded his body and a black-and-white hazmat replaced his clothes, with the boots and jacket still on.

He sighed and looked at the window. He clenched his fists and walked towards it, his body going intangible. He _had_ to fight. It was ghosts verses ghosts, one half of the Zone verses the other, with earth as the battlefield.

And he was the general of one side.

"I love you," he said softly. "…Good bye."

* * *

_Inspired by the song 'Like Toy Soldiers' by Eminem. Thanks for reading, part two will be later on.  
_


	4. Centerpieces

_I _ _originally wasn't going to post this, because I wrote a bunch of short things that came before it. But I wrote this based off of a drawing on dA, and the girl who drew it wanted to read the fic, so here it is._**  
**

* * *

** Centerpieces**  
Rating: PG_  
A Danny Phantom fanfiction _

* * *

The sun was blinding as it shot through the blinds, splashing light into the room. The young man rolled over, pulling the blanket up over his head. He didn't realize who it was that opened the blinds. He slowly pulled out from underneath the blankets, exposing the top half of his body. 

"Wake up, you," she said softly, leaning over him. Her long hair dangled on his exposed shoulders and he turned to the side, opening one eye and looking at her.

"What are you doing up so early?" he asked, and she leaned over him, her nose touching his, pushing his long hair out of his face. He almost couldn't contain himself as she touched his cheek gently; she looked almost like an angel, hovering over him with the sunlight on her back.

"It's not that early," she said back in a soft voice. She leaned back and stretched, smiling at him. He sat up and pulled her into his arms, creating a little yelp from her.

"'Morning," he whispered, kissing her lips gently. She giggled and sat up all the way, grabbing a hairbrush from the windowsill. She clambered over to her side of the bed, sitting up straight and brushing her lovely long hair. He sat with the blankets still up over his lap, trying to wake himself up.

"C'mon, Danny, wake up," Sam said, punching his shoulder gently. Danny sighed and turned to her, moving back against the headboard.

"I don't wanna," he muttered. He glanced up at her. "Your roommate is due back today, isn't she?"

"Yep," Sam said, glancing at the perfectly made bed on the other side of the room. "I think she's due back at noon, so that means you still have a couple hours to wake up before you _get the hell out of our dorms._" Danny grinned and grabbed onto his girlfriend's waist, pulling her down into his arms again. She put her arms around his neck and smiled at him.

"Seriously, Danny, if Rochelle finds out you were in here…"

"She's not gonna find out," Danny said slyly. "Hello, ghost powers. I can go through the wall and she won't even know I was here." Sam sighed.

"Are you sure?" she asked, going back to brushing her hair. "Danny, we've almost been caught twice. I really don't want my parents to be called, do you?"

"My parents won't care," Danny said. Sam scoffed at him. "I'm not saying that they won't care because they're not caring _parents,_ it's just that anytime I mention doing anything with you they get really… happy." Danny smiled in thought as Sam crossed her legs on the bed. "I just mention your name and they're like 'So, you're still dating? Oh, good!' Knowing I sneak into your dorm periodically would just make them ecstatic."

"That's… almost creepy," Sam said, and the couple laughed. Danny poked at his eyebrow piercing, frowning slightly.

"I can't believe I still have this thing."

"You look good," Sam said, grinning. "It was a good idea to get."

"I guess…" he looked into the glass in the window and examined his reflection.

"Oh, God, I look like a mess," he said, running his hands through his hair that was going in every direction. Sam reached out with her hairbrush and, sitting with her legs around Danny, started brushing his hair.

"…Are you brushing my hair?"

"Yes," she said, turning his head slightly to get at the sides. "If Rochelle _does_ come back early, the least we can do is make us – well, you, now, since I cleaned up – look like we _didn't_ spend half the night rolling around in this bed." Danny laughed as she pulled his long hair back behind his head, putting it into a ponytail. "There!"

"Ow!" Danny cried, jumping and moving back. "Damnit, Sam, I _hate_ hair elastics."

"Cut your hair then, you hippie," Sam said, smirking. "And I mean that with love." She gently tightened the hair elastic in his raven hair and played with it momentarily, swishing the short ponytail back and forth. Danny grabbed her hands in his and held them, allowing the warm sun to wash over them. She leaned forwards and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her chin on top of his head, the hairbrush still clenched in her hand.

"Love you," she murmured, closing her eyes.

* * *

_Based off of a drawing by **deviantcj** on deviantART. See the drawing here: http:// www. deviantart. com/ deviation/ 49193475/  
without the spaces._


	5. I'm Going Back To The Start

_I got this idea yesterday during math. So here it is.  
_

* * *

**I'm Going Back to the Start**  
Rating: G_  
A Danny Phantom fanfiction_

* * *

Delicate fingers brushed over ancient pages as she turned them, looking down at the plastic-covered photos. There were some of her favorite memories in this book. Memories from times that had long since passed.

She was a little surprised when her mother called and told her what she found.

"I _knew_ they were around _somewhere,_" she had said breathlessly. "And I know it's a little late for a wedding present, but if you want, you can come pick yours up."

So Jazz had hopped into her car after calling her husband of two years at work, and drove the fifteen miles south to Amity Park.

And now she was sitting in her old living room, listening to the summer rain pounding at the windows, legs crossed at the ankles with the thick, pink cloth-bound photo album.

"Wow," she said softly, brushing her red hair from her face. "Mom, how'd you lose something like this?"

"Blame your father," Maddie said, a smile in her voice. "He put both of them in a box labeled 'Cookbooks'." Jazz smiled and flipped the pages, looking at certificates she had won in middle school, and a graduation certificate from the eighth grade. "Your first eighteen years are in here, just like I said."

"It's so wonderful," Jazz said. "I wish you could have found it when I got married."

"Me, too, but, like I said... _Cookbooks…_" the two women laughed gently as Jazz breezed through her high school photos. Homecoming dances, big term papers, scholarship points. It was al meticulously documented in this big pink book, with her name embroidered in white and gold on the front.

"It was a gift from your aunt when you were born," Maddie had explained when she was younger. "You fill it with photos for as long as you live with your parents. Then you're _supposed_ to give it to the child as a wedding present, but… times have changed."

"When I marry Sam," Danny had said confidently, "you can give it to me."

"Oh, really?" Jazz had said, snickering, closing her own completed album. She had just graduated high school at the time. Her sixteen-year-old brother grinned.

"Yes, Jazz."

"Is Danny's around?" Jazz asked delicately. Maddie blinked for a moment, and then nodded.

"Yes, it's… its right here," she said, reaching down into the cardboard box. She stood up straight with an identical album, only this one made of a light blue cloth. She put it in Jazz's lap and sat down next to her.

The two of them looked through it together, looking at photos of Danny from when he was an infant, through his childhood, and into his adolescence.

"…Y'know, the reason I even have been looking for these was because… I wanted to give this to him," Maddie said softly. Jazz could hear the tears in her voice. Jazz turned to her.

"You mean… like, put it into his casket?"

"Yes," Maddie said, smiling. "I tried so hard to find it before the funeral, but… Well, I didn't think they'd be in a box labeled 'Cookbooks'." Jazz turned the page in Danny's photo album. The last photo on the last page was of him, just after his seventeenth birthday. He was smiling, and it was a very candid photo; he wasn't even looking at the camera. His hair was being blown by the wind, and he was leaning out of a tall window, casually looking out over the city. It was his bedroom window, the one right above them on the second floor. Sam had taken the photo from his other bedroom window, since he 'looked so serene', she had said.

When the film that was found beside Sam was developed later, this was the photo that soon became familiar to them all; it had been made into dozens of copies and, at his funeral, had been the photo that adorned his closed casket.

"I think it's a good thing you couldn't find it," Jazz said, looking at her mother. "Because now you can keep it… to remember him by." Maddie nodded and smiled, taking the book in her arms. She buried her face in the old blue cloth and sighed, Jazz putting her arms around her.

"It still hurts so much," Maddie said softly. "He was so young… he wasn't even eighteen years old yet, and already he was gone."

"I know, Mom," Jazz said, closing her eyes. "I know."

* * *

_My mom's family did this. They have albums for all their children - five pink ones and one blue one. Each one is filled with photos of the person from the literal moment they're born until they're eighteen, when they step out into the world. It's pretty cool to see.  
_


	6. Looking on Up

_I'm just popping these out, aren't I? Got the idea today during a course selections meeting._

* * *

**Looking on Up  
**Rating: G  
_A Danny Phantom fanfiction_**  
**

* * *

It's not a secret; one of my life dreams is to go up among the stars. Ever since I was little I would sit outside at night and stare at the sky, dreaming of one day being up there. I remember leaning out my bedroom window, well past my bedtime, staring up, thinking, wishing, wistfully, of being up there. 

Instead of leaning out my bedroom window, now I'm laying down in the grass, my hands behind my head. I can't see the people around me, but I know they're there. Tucker's on my right; I can hear his PDA beeping. And Sam's on my left; I can hear her breathing deeply. I think she might have fallen asleep.

The three of us were just lying there, in the grass, underneath the wide open sky. We're so far away from the city that the sky looked as if it were filled with dozens of layers of white specks, some very close and some very far away.

Will our lives always be this blissful, this simple? I don't know, but I hope it is. We're starting high school; our lives as children are almost over. In a few short years we'll be thrust out stumbling into the world, just barely grasping onto the last few wisps of childhood and bounding out into adulthood. What do our futures hold? Will we be together?

_The stars are always together,_ I thought to myself. _I hope I can be amongst them one day._

I sighed. My life had been such a simple streak of occurrences. It was very simple, very livable, very… average. Being an astronaut would be _incredible._ It would be a rip out of the ordinary, something that I could do that others could only dream of. It was a way of self-validation for me. That was my _dream,_ to study worlds and stars beyond our own.

My parents never really understood that. Sure, they were pioneers, I guess, in their own way; they wanted to explore the worlds beyond our own, like breaking into the fabled Ghost Zone beyond our own mortal realm. It was kind of a terrifying thought. I mean, what kind of place would exist in which everyone had been there – and would be there – for eternity? Although it was a little strange (and frightening), it was kind of interesting to think about… But that's not for me. The sky's the limit for me…

"Hey guys?" I asked softly. I could hear the grass rustle as they turned.

"Yeah, Danny?" Sam asked, just as Tucker said "What is it?" I turned onto my stomach to face them, my two best friends.

"Do you guys wanna come over tomorrow?" I asked.

"What for?" Tucker replied as Sam checked her cellphone for the time.

"Well, Jazz isn't going to be home and my parents are _finally_ taking a break from trying to get the portal to work, so I'll be home alone all day…"

"They still can't get it to work, huh?" Tucker said, grinning. "Your poor parents. How long have they been slaving over that thing?"

"Months, since they completed it," I answered, frowning. "I think they've just about given up. They don't know _why,_ but it isn't working."

"Maybe you should take a stab at it, Danny," Sam said, a smile playing over her face. "Maybe you can use your own Fenton genius to make it work."

"Yeah, okay, right," I said, rolling my eyes. Sam laughed.

"Well, can we see it, at least?" she pleaded. I sighed.

"I dunno…"

"I kinda wanna see it, too," Tucker said. "It was all your parents could talk about for _months_ – I wanna see what all the hooplah is about."

"Well, there isn't much 'hooplah' anymore," I responded. "It doesn't work, so instead of being the Fenton Ghost Portal, it's just the Fenton Hole In The Wall."

"Well, hole in the wall or not, I still wanna see it," Sam said, drumming her fingers on the soft ground. "Just check it out, y'know? I've never seen anything like that before."

"Okay, okay, let's talk about this tomorrow," I said, raising my hands in defense. "We'll go downstairs, poke around, and then go back up as if nothing happened. Okay?"


	7. Soldiers: 2

**Soldiers (Two)**  
Rating: G**  
**_A Danny Phantom fanfiction  
_

* * *

It had been four years since then. Four years since she had fallen asleep one night, in the arms of her loving husband, to wake up with a thick letter in her hand next to a rose and a ring.

Of course, she knew of all the battles being waged on their earth; he was the head of the resistance, trying to get it moved back into the Ghost Zone, where it belonged. The ghosts had come out of the partially destroyed Zone, not wanting to destroy their homes. But of course, they had no problem destroying other's homes…

Four years since she had seen him.

The letter explained that he was going head on into battle, leading his half of the Ghost Zone against the other half, finally pushing them all back into the Ghost Zone. '_It's time to end this,'_ he had written to her. '_I don't want to see you or our baby be killed because of this war.'_ And so, he had forced them all back into the Ghost Zone, leaving destruction in many parts of the country in his wake.

She had no idea what to do. Here she was, seven months pregnant, with no husband and no idea what was happening. So she did the only thing she knew; she called her closest relative.

Jazz was more than understanding, immediately taking the girl into her home. They cried and mourned and remembered together, Jazz, her baby brother, and Sam, her beloved husband. And then, two months later, she had given birth to a seven pound, four ounce human being with his bright eyes and thick, unruly hair.

And then four years had passed.

Everyday she touched the yellowed envelope, fiddling with his wedding band on a chain around her neck. Everyday, as she helped their daughter dress and teach her how to live, she hoped against hope he would come home. She had never heard word of his death; just that his side had successfully brought peace back to the Ghost Zone, after almost eight years of fighting. The fight had started in their Junior year of high school, at the tender age of sixteen; he was twenty-four when she last saw him.

Everyday she brushed their daughter's thick, raven hair, braiding it down her back. And everyday their daughter looked up at her with big, sapphire eyes, with a face just like the father she never really knew.

"Daniyyel," Sam would say, braiding her hair, "would you like to hear a story about your Daddy?" And she would comply, smiling and nodding and hopping into her mother's lap.

It was easy to blame him, she realized. Easy to blame him for all the pain and devastation he had put her through for the last four years. If it hadn't been for Daniyyel, she surely would have lost the will to live.

But she realized that, without what he did, neither she nor her daughter would be alive. They would be dead, because he had found out only a few nights before he left that the side against him were planning on kidnapping her and slaughtering her, to weaken the leader.

And Danny would sooner slit his own throat then have anyone _touch_ the person he loved more than any other person in the world. And so, she never saw him again.

That is, until that night, four years after he left, when she was just falling asleep, Daniyyel lying in the bed curled in her arms, when she opened her eyes to see a wearied, bandaged, smiling man before her, his hand in her warm cheek, his fingers freezing to the touch.

* * *

_Second part to the first.  
_


	8. Denudation

**Warning:** _this is ridiculously angsty - even I think it's a bit overboard. But I wrote it while in a shitty mood during an equally shitty week, so it helped me with my shitty-ness. But it's really dark. Jesus Christ. Anyway, just a warning._

* * *

**Denudation**  
Rating: PG_  
A Danny Phantom fanfiction  
_

* * *

They were high up. 

Up, up, up the side of the building, practically into the storming clouds. Freezing rain fell on the spectators below, people shielding their eyes so they could watch. The clouds were so dark that it made afternoon feel like night.

He and his foe went up, higher and higher.

Sam shielded her eyes against the rain, one hand over her eyes, the other one clenched in a fist. The freezing rain had already given her bare arms goose bumps, but she hardly noticed as she stared into the sky.

Tucker was holding onto the Thermos with both hands, also staring straight up.

Danny was getting extremely high up now.

The crowd that had gathered below to watch began murmuring things, flying whispers and little drabbles.

"I wonder what that ghost is—"

"—they're up _awfully_ high—"

"—Isn't he afraid of falling?"

Sam shifted from foot to foot, her eyes never straying from the building. Danny and the specter disappeared over the edge of the building, up onto the roof. A brilliant flash of green lit up the dark sky, and Sam shivered, wondering what kind of attack Danny had to use to keep himself unharmed.

She was shaken out of her watch when she felt someone place their hands on her shoulders.

"Sam," Jazz said breathlessly beside her, panting. "We got here as fast as possible—Where is he?" she whispered, when her father came up behind her, parting the crowd.

"Stand aside, stand aside, we're professionals," Jack said in his booming voice, his eyes following the gaze of everyone else in Amity Park. "Where are they?"

"On the roof," Sam said to the older man. "They went over the ledge of the roof just a minute ago."

"How powerful did his foe look?" Maddie asked Sam, fiddling with something on her belt in the slick rain.

"Pretty powerful," Tucker supplied, walking over. "I… I don't know if Phantom can hold the ghost off himself."

"That's why we called," Sam said in a small voice. Jazz put her arm around her, comforting the girl. Sam was glad for the momentary warmth, and looked back up when Jazz pulled away.

"Well, we can't fly," Jack admitted. "I guess we'll have to wait until they come back over the edge."

"But they're so high up," Maddie said to her husband, biting her lower lip. "How can we assure a direct shot at the opposing ghost? What if we hit Phantom instead?"

"We'll have to be careful then," Jack answered in an uncharacteristically serious tone. "We can't shoot until we're completely sure we won't hit Phantom."

"They'd have to come lower, then—Look!" Maddie cried, pointing up. The crowd gasped as one and looked back up at the roof, where Danny and his foe appeared back over the ledge.

And Danny appeared to be losing.

He was being held by the throat, Danny using his hands to claw at the mysterious hooded ghost with all his might. His legs waved wildly in mid-air, almost signaling for help.

Sam gasped and pressed her fingers against her mouth, staring with wide eyes at the dueling ghosts. Tucker came up beside her, putting his hand on her shoulder.

Suddenly, the hooded ghost released Danny from his grip. He began waving his hands around in the air, as if trying to make a deal with Danny. Danny shook his head furiously, his brilliant white hair swishing back and forth as he did so. He lunged at the ghost, only to be pushed aside. The ghost then started waving his hands, almost gesturing to the crowd below.

Out from his stubby hands came what appeared to be blood-red claws. As thing and sharp as knives, they grew longer and longer, and he slowly began advancing on the crowd below.

Screams emitted from the crowd as they realized just what the ghost was doing.

_He was going after them now!_

People started to panic and began running every which way, trying to get away from the advancing ghost.

Suddenly, Danny appeared again, having recovered from his being shoved, and grabbed the ghost from behind, his hands glowing fluorescent green. He began yelling something at the ghost, almost begging. The ghost stopped advancing on the crowd, turned to him, and cocked his head. Danny continued to yell, pulling his hands away from the ghost and instead clasping them together, then pulling them apart and gesturing to the crowd.

"What the hell is he doing?" Tucker whispered.

"It looks like he's making some sort of deal," Jazz answered. Maddie put her ecto gun back onto her belt.

"I think he has it under control now," she said, half as confident as she wanted to sound. "I guess—"

_GUIIIISHHHHH!_

A grotesque sound was heard up above them. Danny and the ghost had slowly begun lowering, when suddenly, the ghost thrust one of his long claws _right through him._ Thankfully, Danny had thought to go intangible right after impact, but bright green ectoplasm still protruded from his body. A sizable cut had been made.

"PHANTOM!" someone yelled from the crowd. Danny, clutching his stomach with one hand, moved back from the ghost, and looked down at the crowd.

He had a look of sadness in his eyes, one that worried the people below. Sam's hands stayed over her mouth, and she began shaking her head slowly. Tucker looked at her and then at Jazz, then back at Danny.

Danny closed his eyes, turned away from the crowd, and then opened them again, facing the ghost.

He began to charge.

He flew at the ghost, arms outstretched, but he wasn't attacking. It was almost as if he were going to _hug_ the ghost, when—

_KERGUIIIIIISSSSSSH._

The ghost ran three of his claws right across the front of Danny's body, pressing them deep into the ghost boy.

Danny remained silent, teeth clenched, eyes focused on the ghost. For a moment they were both still, barely an inch apart, when suddenly, Danny wobbled.

The crowd gasped as one as the ghost pulled the claws back out, dripping with slimy-looking ectoplasm.

From several hundred feet in the air, Danny fell.

He was falling head-first, his white hair billowing around his head, arms by his side. As he fell, the green substance leaking from his body filled the air, and he began falling faster as he approached the ground.

Without thinking, Tucker darted out from the crowd and ran over to where Danny was falling. He stretched out his arms and, using all of his weight and strength, caught the wounded soldier in his arms.

The crowd was silent.

Staggering, Tucker carried him back, a bright white light suddenly illuminating him and then dissipating as he walked. The crowd cleared a small path so Tucker could lay Danny down.

When Tucker moved away, there was a gasp of horror behind him.

Lying on his back, on the ground, in a pool of blood, was young Danny Fenton.

Sam shook her head again, her knees weak, and she fell onto Jazz, who felt just as weak as she did.

Both Jack and Maddie were speechless, Maddie quivering from shock. The entire crowd was silent, most people just staring at the boy in surprise and shock.

Danny's pale skin was deathly white, and he hadn't moved or made a sound since Tucker laid him there. His t-shirt was ripped straight down the center, with three large, ugly, gushing slashes right on his chest and abdomen. His head was also bleeding, and there was a thin trail of blood from his lips. His eyes were partially open, but the brilliant blue of his eyes was faded and grey, all life having escaped from him

"Danny?" Tucker whispered, kneeling beside him. But there was no answer. Tucker placed his shaking fingers on Danny's neck.

No pulse

He had died.

* * *

_I know, this is excessively angsty. But a few weeks back I really had the sudden urge to write something incredibly angsty, wrote it, and I just found it now. So here it is._


	9. Reasons

**Reasons**  
Rating: PG  
_A Danny Phantom fanfiction_

* * *

"Hey, did you hear what's happening?" 

"Yeah, I can't believe it!"

"Let's go see!"

"Hey, Foley, what's wrong with your friends?" At that comment, Tucker snapped his head up from where he was stuffing his AP Physics books into his bag. Students were peering out of classrooms and running down the hallway towards something that was happening over near the lockers. Dash had stuck his head in the room, seen Tucker, and decided to (rudely) ask what was going on.

"What do you mean?" Tucker asked.

"Fenton and Manson," Dash said, grinning widely. "What the hell is going _on?"_

"What about them?" Tucker asked, concern growing in his chest. He didn't see Danny and Sam after lunch; he had AP Physics the same time that Sam (happily) and Danny (unfortunately) had Creative Writing II up the hall.

"Come see for yourself!" Dash said, and he ducked back out of the doorway. Worry flooding his chest, Tucker swung his bag over his shoulder and sped out of the room, looking down the hall to the growing mass of students at the other end, around the lockers.

_That_ was when he heard it.

Two people were fighting; he could hear yelling and a huge _crash!_ as what sounded like a pile of books hit the floor.

The voices belonged to Danny and Sam.

"What?" Tucker murmured in disbelief, walking over. He shoved himself through the growing layer of people to the front, and nearly dropped his bag in disbelief.

There, standing in front of Danny's wide-open locker, amid a see of scattered books and notebooks, were his best friends, glaring at each other angrily, Sam with her hands on her hips and Danny with one hand on the locker door, gripping it angrily.

_What? They're **fighting?**_ Tucker thought to himself in awe. _But this is Danny and Sam. They almost **never** fight – at least not as publicly as this!_

But, alas, they were.

"I can't even _believe _you," Sam said through her teeth, breathing heavily, her eyes never straying from Danny's. Her breathing was ragged and she looked on the verge of tears. "Just – how? How could you?"

"Look, I'm sorry, alright?!" Danny said back, his voice rising in volume. He backed up a couple steps and let the door go, balling his hands into fists. A gasp rippled through the crowd at the sight.

" 'Sorry' isn't going to cut it anymore, Danny," Sam growled. "I'm just so sick of all this shit!"

"Nobody said you had to deal with this, if it's 'shit'," Danny replied bitterly. Tucker just looked from one to the other, having _no_ idea what they could possibly be talking about. It was almost surreal.

"Well, seems I have to _every damn day,_ and I'm so _sick_ of it – and I'm sick of _you!"_ Sam cried, shouting. Danny gasped, and then glared at her, narrowing his eyes.

And then – it was almost instant – he advanced on her. His face was nearly red from anger, and he reached out and grabbed her wrist tightly, pulling her towards him. Sam gasped in shock, wincing as Danny pulled her right up to his face.

"Then get out of my life," he said in a dangerous voice. Sam just stared at him, shaking, tears rolling down her cheeks. Tucker knew he had to step in and say something before Danny completely lost control, but he felt paralyzed.

It had taken two years, but finally at the beginning of their junior year, Danny and Sam had realized what everyone had known forever – they were meant to be together. Their entire class was just waiting for the day when they _finally_ became a couple. And it had happened. It was the talk of the school; no one had seen a couple more… _right_ for each other. And they were modest about it, too; they weren't the annoying, flashy, making-out-in-the-doorway-you-want-to-go-through kind of couple. They weren't very publicly affectionate, but just enough for it to be sweet and _not_ awkward.

And now, three months later… They were acting as uncharacteristically of themselves as anyone had ever seen.

Sam's cheeks were stained with trails of gray from her eyeliner as Danny released her, giving her a bit of a push. She glared at him and then suddenly attacked back.

"Why you—" And she reached out and shoved his shoulders, pushing him back into the lockers. Danny cried out as he fell, and the crowd moved back. Tucker looked around at all the shocked faces. "We're _through_¸ Danny Fenton!"

_Where are all the teachers?_ He wondered. _AND WHY CAN I STILL NOT MOVE?_

"You bitch," Danny muttered, standing up, Sam shying away in fright. Tucker seemed to finally regain the feeling in his legs, and was about to run over, when—

"_A Tale of Two Cities_, people! What on _earth_ is going on?" Mr. Lancer shoved his way through the crowd, followed by the principal, causing everyone to jump at his sudden outburst that had cut through the silence. Both Danny and Sam turned in surprise. Lancer stopped, glared at them both, and crossed his arms in anger.

"Fenton! Manson! Into my office. Separately. _Now._" Two other teachers walked over to them, each one grabbing either Sam or Danny, and escorted them down the hallway towards the office. "Foley, pick up all those books and put them in Fenton's locker. Now, who here saw this start?" No one answered him for a moment. "_Well?_"

"I-I did, Mr. Lancer," Paulina said in a small voice, her hands clasped together and her face white. "M-my locker is right next to Danny's."

"Sanchez, come with me. The rest of you; get to class. This is a _disgrace._" Tucker walked forwards and bent down, picking up the jumble of Danny's and Sam's books from the floor. He shoved them all into Danny's locker and closed it, defeated. Sighing, he slid into his last period, History, and sat down in his seat in the middle row. Their teacher was absent, and the substitute didn't seem to have a lesson plan for them.

"Tucker, do you know what happened?" Valerie asked, moving to the desk next to him. Tucker sighed.

"I… have no idea," he said slowly. "I've never, in my entire life, seen them so mad at each other before. And I've _never_ seen _either_ of them lay a hand on somebody before."

_Not on each other, anyway,_ he thought to himself, thinking of all the ghosts Danny had fought that Sam and he had assisted with. But that didn't really count.

Valerie shuddered.

"It was so _strange…_ and they seemed so happy, too," she said, her voice getting softer. "Are you sure you don't know of anything happening? If you don't mind telling me, of course."

"I honestly have no idea what happened," Tucker said, putting his head in his hands. His head was throbbing with a splitting headache. "I didn't get there until the fight was on the brink of physical."

"I wonder what's going to happen to them," Valerie muttered. Just as she spoke, Paulina slipped silently into the room, sighing as she closed the door. Instantly, the whole class was around her desk, asking what happened. Tucker idled over, wondering if he could get some kind of insight as to what had happened.

"Well, they're being sent home," Paulina was saying to the crowd of students as he and Valerie walked over. "They called their parents. Somehow they got out of being suspended – but they were _this close_ to a three-day out-of-school suspension." The crowd 'Ohhhh'-ed in response. "Yeah, it was pretty bad. They couldn't even look at each other, and Sam looked like she had hurt her wrist. The Mansons looked _furious._"

"What happened?" Tucker asked. "How did they start fighting?"

"Well," Paulina began again, leaning back, "I was at my locker, switching my books, and Danny was at his when Sam came over to him. I was just walking away so I didn't catch what Sam said, but Danny turned to her and had this look on his face of maybe shock and surprise. It looked like Sam was _accusing_ him of something. They were talking really low in front of his locker, and then she suddenly started yelling something like 'How could you?' and that's when everyone started gathering around."

"So, you didn't hear what they were talking _about?_" Valerie asked, her voice falling. Paulina shook her head, her glossy hair swishing back and forth delicately.

"No, although it sounded _really_ bad," she said. "I almost feel bad."

"It sounds like he cheated on her," someone supplied from Paulina's right. "Doesn't—"

"Danny would _never_ do that," Tucker interjected, causing everyone to turn to him. Sure, Danny made mistakes. Sure, Danny was clumsy, he slipped up. Sure, he had secrets – his entire existence practically revolved around a well-kept secret. But one thing he did _not_ do was betray the people he loved.

And he loved Sam. He had told Tucker himself. The two of them, sitting on Danny's roof one night, relaxing after an exhausting ghost battle. He had said if softly and with an air of uncertainty, as if he was just admitting it to himself.

"Tuck… I _love_ her."

"Of course you do. I do, too."

"No, I mean… really _love_ her. Like what you read about in books or something. That feeling, when all I think about, all I see—everything. She's everything to me."

"Danny may be a lot of things, but he's _not_ a cheater. He would _never_ betray Sam like that," Tucker said, looking around at all the people around him. And he walked away, grabbing his bag angrily with the eyes of his classmates on his back.

_I hope he isn't,_ he thought sullenly to himself.

* * *

"Mom… can I go for a walk?" Maddie looked up; her heart falling at the sound of her son's defeated voice. He almost never asked to do things anymore, just spouted off where he was going and a "Love you!" as he dashed out the door. But now, he sounded so defeated, so beaten, so… broken. It broke her heart to hear. 

"I suppose, for a little while," she said, sending a strained smile his way. He had been brought home, yelled at for awhile, and then promptly grounded. But when Jazz told them what had _really_ happened, that he had a very nasty, very _public_ break-up with Sam, they had felt it tug on their heartstrings. He had done some stupid things, but… it did seem like a lot to handle.

Danny gave her a half smile, more to reassure her than him, and left out the door, closing it gently behind him. Maddie sighed and put down the book she was reading, sighing softly.

They were lucky the Manson's hadn't pressed charges. Although Sam was perfectly fine, uninjured, _and_ took the fall for starting the fight, they forbade her to ever speak to any Fenton again _and_ were considering taking out a restraining order. It seemed that they'd never be on good terms with their family…

As Danny walked through the darkened night streets, he was perfectly aware that students who were out and about at dusk were whispering about him behind their hands to each other. He slowly made his way to the park, the image of Sam crying, crouching away from him in fear making him feel like the lowest being on earth.

As he walked, he glanced in every direction, making sure no one was paying attention to where he was going. Then, right before he went into the park gate, he kept going, turning the sharp corner down a small street with only one streetlamp that had half flickered on. No one was ever down this street, and it was almost always dark. As he walked, he saw a figure leaning against the stone wall that outlined the park. The figure was standing with its back against the wall, one foot up on it.

As Danny approached the figure, its shape became clearer.

It was Sam.

She looked up as he approached, startled to see him. Sam glanced around, tensing, when—

Danny raised his eyebrows at her. Sam let out a breath and broke into a wide grin, walking over to him. She giggled and slid her arms around his neck, kissing him firmly, taking him by surprise. He smiled in return and slid his arms around her slender waist, his cool hands surprising her on her warm bare back.

"Well?" she said in a soft, breathy voice, "how was I? Oscar-worthy?"

"Oh yes," Danny replied, rolling his eyes. "Very. And the tears? Nice touch."

"Well, I had to keep telling myself it was really happening," she admitted. "And I thought to myself – 'if Danny did something so horrible as cheat, what would I do? Cry. Right.' So I did. Although at first I kinda made it sound like you cheated on me everyday, huh?"

"Yeah, I was confused by that when you started talking about 'dealing with this _shit_ everyday'. Good thing it didn't continue for very long."

"I know. Heh… so, was I really that good?"

"You had me fooled for a second," Danny said gently. "I thought you were actually angry for awhile."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Sam said, giggling. "And what's with the grabbing me thing? I mean, I know you made your hand intangible for a moment so you wouldn't hurt me, but were you _trying_ to get us expelled?"

"No, just in trouble," Danny said, sighing. "Too far?"

"Maybe. You're lucky I talked my parents out of getting a freaking _restraining_ order..." They were silent for a moment, just enjoying the company they provided and being in each other's arms once more.

After a moment, Sam leaned in and gently placed her lips on his again. Her arms were still up around his shoulders, and she closed her eyes, letting her fingers fall through his hair. He closed his eyes and kissed her back, turning his head slightly, tightening his grip on her. He deepened the kiss slowly, gently parting her lips with his tongue. Sam let out a soft moan and smiled.

She pulled away from him and leaned on his chest, her head fitting nicely between his chest and his head. He held her for a moment, then suddenly swung her around and lifted her right into his arms, Sam shouting out in surprise. She hung onto him and laughed, realizing that she may be heard and covered her mouth with her hands.

"What do we do now?" Danny asked softly. "Everyone thinks we've broken up. Everyone thinks we hate each other – or at least, you hate me. How will this work?"

"We'll just have to sneak around," Sam replied, smiling devilishly. "Besides, with a boyfriend with ghost powers, how hard can it be?"

* * *

_I apologize for the bits of OOC-ness. I've been having a pretty crappy existence for the past few weeks, so I started writing something really sad. But then I decided to cheer myself up and make it happy, so this is totally confusing/OOC/pretty dumb. But I had fun writing it.  
_


	10. Hoppipolla

**Hoppipolla**  
Rating: PG-13  
_A Danny Phantom fanfiction_

* * *

The first thing I remember is my shoulder aching like all hell. Half way to consciousness I felt it – I felt the searing pain, and I could feel the warm blood spilling down the right side of my body. I was sitting up, with my back against a slab of concrete that used to make up my basement lab. Around me was chaos and destruction; the demonic malefactor had blown up my house. Quite obviously he had meant to take me and Daniel with it – but that plan had failed. 

Slowly I moved out from underneath my rubble, my shoulder aching in blinding pain, my clothes covered in dust and blood. As I stood, I could see the remains of my house; the frame was all that was left, with bits and pieces hanging here and there. Part of it had lit on fire southwards of me; I could hear sirens wailing in the distance. Someone must have heard the horrible sound.

It didn't occur to me for awhile that he wasn't anywhere to be seen. I wobbled out of the wreckage and just surveyed it, dazed from the ordeal. My right arm was numb now, and paramedics and fire trucks and police officers were arriving by the dozens.

That was when I first saw him.

I was standing in the middle of the rubble, a police officer talking at me quickly, waving his hands around and pointing at things, but my focus was on the large piece of plaster before me.

There was a hand lying out from underneath it. It was a pale hand, a thin hand, a hand that was half covered in red blood.

Without thinking, I just walked away from the officer and knelt down next to the large piece of plaster, getting down and looking underneath from where the hand was protruding.

"Hey," I called out, "he's under here! Someone move this thing!" Without hesitation some of the firefighters bounded over and moved said plaster, struggling under its weight. Lo and behold, underneath was young Daniel. He was lying on his side, eyes half open, lying with his head on one shoulder.

My eyes opened wide as the firefighters moved on to him, gently moving him out from part of the wall that was stuck under the ground. As they moved him he shifted, and his head moved gently. They laid him down right before me, calling the paramedics.

Without saying a word, I just looked down at him. Even though his eyes were open, there was no life in them; blood splattered on his chest and his face, and down the front of his body, staining his entire body with a deep crimson red. He wasn't breathing, and his skin looked deathly pale underneath the bright red of his blood.

Upon closer examination, it seemed as if something had burned clean through his shirt and half way through his body. His chest was charred and black, as if he had been lit on fire.

I knew that he very well had been.

He was there just long enough for me to reach out with my good arm and gently close his eyes for him. When they were closed, he didn't seem like he was gone; he looked like he was sleeping, just waiting for a new day to dawn. I pushed his bloodied hair from his forehead just as he was lifted into the air, his arms and legs dangling limply. I watched almost in slow motion as an EMT lowered his still body onto a stretcher, blood slowly dripping down his arm onto the ground. They covered up his body with a white sheet that quickly stained to deep red, and rolled it back to the ambulance.

It took them awhile to coax me off the ground, I suppose, because I remember kneeling there for a long time.

A week or so later I found myself, once again in Amity Park, delivering a lost son home to be back with his family for eternity.

* * *

_TUE-inspired, obviously, as well as inspired by the song "Hoppipolla" by Sigur Ros, of which I don't own.  
_


	11. Sweet Lullaby

**Sweet Lullaby**

Thunder exploded outside the window, jerking the young woman into consciousness. Out of habit, she forced herself to stay awake, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. The slightest sound forced her to wake up nowadays, and she expected in just a few moments to hear a loud, shrill cry from beside her bed.

As soon as she swung her legs over the edge and stood, that shill cry pierced the air, and she scurried silently over to the bassinet, leaning down and scooping the little infant into her arms.

"Shush, my baby," she whispered, cradling the infant in her thin arms. Thunder cracked again and she winced as the newborn cried even louder.

Not wanting to wake her husband, she slid out of the room and tip-toed her way down the stairs and into the living room. The rain was slapping against the windows full-force and lightning flashed, lighting up the entire room for a second.

She leaned down against a rocking chair, falling into the seat gently. She held the infant against her chest, rocking back and forth slowly, humming gently. She was tired, and achy, and she felt as if she hadn't seen her husband in weeks. This new little life form consumed all her time since he was born just weeks earlier.

"I can already tell that you're going to be interesting to raise," she whispered in amusement. She thought of the bizarre life she lived, and the bizarre one he would probably be assimilated into later in life.

The thunder had died down, thankfully, and now the rain was just softly hitting the window. The young woman cradled her baby once more and looked down at his tiny figure. She touched the black hair that made him look so much like his father; and his wide eyes, another trait from his father. She felt as if she didn't see much of herself in there, even if her DNA was in there somewhere.

He had calmed down somewhat and looked up at her with watery eyes, sniffling and yawning. He was a good baby, she had to admit. Although he did cry, he didn't cry much, and she was normally able to get a good five or six hours of sleep in before he woke up…

The storm had finally passed. She awoke with a start, her arms still clutching her baby. She looked down at him, panicked. She had drifted off momentarily in her thoughts, but a moment was long enough for something _catastrophic_ to happen to an infant.

Thankfully, he was sleeping soundly against her arm, his little eyes closed.

Yawning, the young woman pushed her red hair behind her ears and stood up, stretching her back as she held her little baby. Gently rocking him, she crouched down and picked up the little blanket that had fallen off of him, neatly stitched with his name. _Daniel Fenton._ What a perfect name for such a perfect being.

"Good night, Danny," Maddie whispered as she went back up the stairs, the rain still crawling down the windows gently.

* * *

_This was originally supposed to be Sam with her baby, but I decided to change it and make it Maddie. I was going to introduce her earlier, but then I decided to see how ambiguous I could make it so it wasn't clear just who it was. Haha. This was partly inspired by the "River Lullaby" from the _Prince of Egypt_, and all the babies and mothers I saw in Disney World this past week.  
_


	12. Soldiers: 3

**Soldiers (Three)**

"...I promised you I would never leave you," he whispered, leaning down close to her. She could feel his cool fingers on her cheek, and she looked up at him with white tears in her eyes.

"I know," she replied. He leaned down and kissed her lips, smiling as he pulled away from her. His body was bruised and banged, and he had deep scars along his arms, his neck and his face. His left eye was covered in a thick, red bandage, as was his right hand. But he still sat beside her on the bed, drawing his fingers from her face to Daniyyel's. The little girl didn't even stir.

"…She's grown so big," Danny said softly. Sam just smiled and basked in the cool comfort his presence gave her, rolling over and laying her arms over Daniyyel's tiny body.

Danny climbed into the bed on Daniyyel's other side, hugging her to his body. Sam felt his arms drape over her back, and she smiled as she snuggled into both him and her daughter, feeling the strength and the love he gave to her.

She felt his cool lips on her forehead, and she opened her eyes to look into his. He stared back, his breathing slow.

"You're safe now," he whispered to her. Sam smiled, feeling a weight lift from her chest. As she closed her eyes, she noticed that his presence was similar to that of a comforting breeze; around her at every notice, surrounding her and caressing her, as she fell asleep…

"…Momma?" a voice said. Sam opened her eyes, blinking. Daniyyel's sapphire eyes peered into her own. The little girl was sitting up.

"Yes, darling," Sam asked, smiling, remembering her husband's return.

"You were dreaming and talking," Daniyyel said, and the girl shivered slightly. Sam frowned, giggling.

"Why, Daniyyel, what do you—" she stopped. The far window was wide open, blowing cool fall air into the room. It was blowing the curtains and rattling the windows. It had also been blowing on the two all night. She could feel it on her cheeks and her neck, along her collarbone and dancing over her shoulder blades. It felt similar to cool fingers.

_He wasn't there._ Danny was nowhere to be found. Sam swallowed and licked her lips, staring in disbelief.

_No._

"Momma?" Daniyyel asked again. "Momma, can we shut the window? It's cold in here."

* * *

_By popular demand - part three. Not as good as the first two, but it's more of a closer this time. Some people have been wondering where I pulled the name 'Daniyyel' from. It's actually the original Hebrew phonetic pronunciation of the name 'Daniel', which is a Hebrew name. I thought it looked cute. Anyway, part three of three. Inspired by the song "Like Toy Soldiers" by Eminem.  
_


	13. Empyreal

**Empyreal  
_empyreal _**_(em-**pir**-ee-uhl) adj. - pertaining to the highest heaven in the cosmology of the ancients.  
_

* * *

"_You're one of the ones who were never born."_

_I glanced up at the sudden words. Master Clockwork usually didn't talk about me, ever. Normally it was just "Why aren't you studying this?" or "Why aren't you practicing that?" He was like that nagging teacher that always would hound you until you were driven up a wall. Never once were my origins spoken of._

_But right now, I was his main focus._

"_What do you mean?" I asked, shifting, Cujo stirring in my lap. Master just placed a hand on his forehead, closing his eyes._

"_You're one of the specters who never lived amongst humans," he said, as if this thought had just occurred to him. "It's… odd. I've never worked closely with one of those types of ghosts before."_

"_Is it bad?" I asked. I never really thought about my own existence before._

"_No, Phantom, it isn't bad," he said, his elderly form glancing back at me. "It's… it's just rather sad is all."_

"What do you want us to call you? Danny? Daniel?"

I'm not used to the feeling of warmth.

Before now, I didn't even understand what warmth was, or that I existed in a cold abyss. My fingers have nerves in them now, which send sensations running throughout my body at breakneck speeds.

But I've never had a body before, either. This is all incredibly new and complex to me. I feel like I'm wearing a large jacket that completely holds my form in, keeping me cozy and warm. Every few moments I placed my fingertips on my chest, feeling the gentle beating of my heart.

_This… is incredible._

_I wish I could have done this before._

Things that people need to know were infused straight into my subconscious. I don't know how, but when I agreed to this, I woke up the next day with all this newfound… knowledge.

"You'll need it," my master had told me, giving me his odd, calm smile. "I think you'll greatly enjoy being amongst the living."

I'm still not used to this reflection.

Every time I catch myself in a mirror, or a window or on the stainless steel refrigerator door, I see something that isn't me. I see thick, dark hair covering bright blue eyes, and pale skin that's pinkish in tone. It's bizarre – to me, anyway.

"…Daniel?"

I glanced up at my new 'mother' of the moment. Has she been speaking to me this entire time? I was being shocked into seeing my living self, for the millionth time since I found myself in this town. I was also thinking of what happened back 'home', when I was first given this chance.

She frowned slightly, raising one eyebrow in what I guessed was a confused expression.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Fenton," I murmured, tearing my eyes away from the window. "D-Danny's fine."

"What a pretty name," she said, sighing contentedly. I smiled, glad to cheer her up. She seemed extremely tensed about this entire situation. "If I ever had a son, I would've named him Daniel."

Her daughter, Jazz (I think that was her name?) lifted my bag into the back of her little black car.

"Mom, c'mon, we have to get him all comfortable at home," she said, smiling at me. "You'll be staying in our spare room for the time being." She excitedly closed the trunk and hopped into the driver's seat, gesturing to her mother and myself to follow.

We opened the doors and slid inside, myself taking up the back seat. Jazz revved the car into gear (I have no idea what the even _means, _yet I knew that's what she had done) and pulled into the street, taking us down winding roads lined with huge buildings.

"So, Danny, how long are you here for?" Mrs. Fenton (she insisted I called her Maddie, but I wasn't comfortable with that yet) asked, turning around in her seat. I smiled politely.

"Only three months," I replied.

Only three months until I go back to being… whatever I was. What am I considered? A monster? An apparition? A spirit?

A ghost?

"So, how did you get entered into this program?" Mrs. Fenton was asking me. My thoughts were getting all jumbled and mixed up in my head again. Ever since having this new body, my thoughts feel all cramped up inside this head, as if they have no room to reverberate off of each other anymore.

"Oh – I wrote an essay about why I should be an exchange student," I answered, remembering my lines almost perfectly. Master would be proud of my delivery.

"And, where are you from, again?"

"Moooom! Stop asking so many questions! He's _my_ guest, not your interview subject!" Mrs. Fenton just rolled her eyes at her daughter's angry outbursts.

"Just ignore her, Danny," Jazz said as we pulled behind a big brick building. She turned the car off and swiftly turned around to look at me.

"Welcome to Amity Park," she said, gesturing around her at the general neighborhood. "I hope your stay with us is as wonderful as you'd hoped it would be."

So do I.

* * *

_First chapter of a story I wrote titled "Empyreal" that never really went anywhere. The pretext of the story was like an opposite Danny Phantom - what if, instead of a human becoming a ghost, the story was a ghost who became human? And thus this was born. This isn't all that exciting, haha. The story is an AU, with "Danny Fenton" not even existing, and Jazz as an only child. It has a good amount of chapters, but they're all over the place - this story is a mess. XD  
_


	14. 01: Introductions

**Introductions  
**

* * *

The new girl leaned up against the oak door, staring at the ceiling. It was the first time she'd be in a public school since she was eight years old. And she was nervous. _Very_ nervous. Starting as a new kid in the last year of junior high was never very good - especially for someone as socially shy as she. The principal was still discussing her classes with her guidance counselor.

Suddenly, a boy slammed his back against the windows next to her, digging through his bag. She glanced at him, wondering if he was in her class. He groaned irritatedly, glancing up at the clock and then back into his bag.

"Damn, and on the first day, too," he said to himself, pulling a notebook out of his bag. The girl just stood there, watching him.

_He's really cute,_ she thought to herself, blushing slightly. For some reason, watching him made her feel more comfortable about her first day in a public middle school. The boy bit his lower lip and flipped open his notebook, jotting something down. She just watched him out of the corner of her eye, trying no to be too obvious that she was looking at him.

He noticed her looking at him and glanced up, surprised that there was somebody else there.

"Oh! – hello," he said, smiling. "Sorry if I scared you, but it's the first day and, well, y'know – detention," he said, gesturing to the closed office doors. Sam just smiled and nodded.

_So that's what he's here for,_ she thought to herself.

"So, what grade are you in?" he asked, leaning casually against the windows. Sam blinked.

_Talk, idiot._

"Oh – eighth," she said, her voice coming out higher than normal. "I-I just transferred here from St. Mary's Academy."

"Ohh, fancy private school, huh?" he said, smirking. "I'm in the eighth grade, too – guess that means we're around the same age." Sam just smiled.

_If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was hitting on me!_

"Have you met anyone yet?" he asked, and Sam shook her head. Danny extended his hand to her. "My name's Danny – Danny Fenton," he said. Sam shook it gently, a little surprised at how gentlemanly he was acting. His name sounded vaguely familiar, too. Of course, though, if she was his age, she probably went to school with him years ago.

"I-I'm Samantha," she said softly. "Samantha Manson."

"You don't look like a Samantha," Danny said coolly. He grinned. "I'm gonna call you Sam." Sam blinked, a little surprised. No one had called her Sam since she was in grade school – the sisters at the Academy insisted on full names, and she hadn't had any friends there to be given a nickname. "You're not here because of getting in trouble, are you?" he asked, gesturing towards the closed office door.

"Oh – no," Sam said, smiling at him. "They're discussing my c-classes."

"Ahh, I see," Danny said, making a mock thinking face. "Well, after I'm done being punished and your done being directed around, why don't you sit with me and my friend at lunch? We can help you around – unless, of course, you have friends you want to hang out with." Sam shook her head.

"I haven't been with any of these people since grade school," she admitted. "I was with this class then, but then my parents stuck me in this big private school – an all girl's school." Danny whistled.

"Whoo, wow, that sucks. No guys? Well, maybe you were better off," he said, chuckling. The door behind them opened and the pot-bellied teacher who had told Sam to wait outside narrowed his eyes at Danny.

"Well, I have a feeling we'll be together a _lot_ this year, Fenton," he said, opening the door wider. "Get your butt in here."

"See ya later," Danny said, grabbing his bag and going into the doorway. Sam just watched as he followed the teacher into the room, closing the door behind him.

Sam leaned up against the wall, closing her eyes. Her heart was beating so fast she was sure it would leap right out of her chest. She didn't even realize she was sweating until now, and – had she been _stuttering?_

"What's gotten into me?" she asked no one. She let out a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. "Am I freaking out… because of _him?_"

She shook her head violently, trying to push the sudden excitement of being with him out of her mind. No, no, it wasn't that… she was excited about having friends. Maybe, for the first time since she was a little girl, she would have friends, people whom she could hang out with and tell her secrets to, people she could feel comfortable with.

She closed her eyes and sighed. It was going to be a long day, she could tell.

* * *

_Around this time last year, I started the Fanart100 prompts on deviantART using the coupling of Danny/Sam. The very first one I drew was "001 - Introductions", which is where the first four paragraphs of this little thing came from. For each prompt, I draw a picture, and write a little ficlet to go with each one. I've elaborated on a couple of these - mainly this one and "096 - In the Storm". This is just my idea of how they met, although I know it may not be very accurate. Also, I've decided to go back and work on _Empyreal _more, for lack of anything better to do with myself. Thanks for the encouragement._


	15. The Best Thing

**The Best Thing  
**

* * *

"Ugh," Sam said, clamping her eyes shut. She groaned and rolled onto her side, clutching her stomach carefully. She curled up into the corner of the couch, curing every little sound that made her pounding head-ache worse. 

"I _hate_ being sick," she muttered for the umpteenth time. Maddie came into the living room, smiling at her daughter-in-law and laying a blanket over her.

"Well, this is what happens when you go to college," she explained. "I remember, when I was in graduate school, I was with people from all over the world who had _dozens_ of bizarre sicknesses." Sam smiled weakly and sat up a little bit more. She'd been feeling sick for a couple days now, and she knew exactly why.

Stomach flu.

It had crept up in some of her classes, and the next thing she knew; nearly the entire school had been infected. It was a mini pandemic.

And now _she_ had it.

"You'd better not give it to me," Danny had said when she went back to their apartment early from her classes. "You're sleeping on the couch."

"Or _you_ could sleep on the couch and let the _sick_ person have the bed," Sam had offered, scowling. The next day she found herself firmly planted in the doctor's office, who decided to run every test imaginable on her to test for a variety of things.

And then, later on in the day, she wound up at her mother-in-law's house.

"So, when are you going to know if you're really sick or not?" Maddie asked. Sam fiddled with her wedding band as she curled into her blanket.

"Danny's going to stop by the doctor's office and see if they know before he comes here," Sam replied. She sighed. "I know I most likely have the stupid thing; I have nearly all the symptoms. It sucks."

"I know," Maddie said, leaning on the arm of the couch. "Being sick is no fun. But think of it this way; once you get better, you're more aware of whose sick and what's going on around you so you don't get it again."

"I suppose," Sam said, snuggling into the blanket more. "This blanket is so nice." She closed her eyes in the soft, warm blue and pink fleece, feeling the sewn edges with her fingers. The fleece was soft, but worn; it was obviously a very old blanket.

"Oh, that old thing, it's nothing amazing," Maddie said, pulling it back from Sam's face just a bit. "It was given to Jack and myself for our tenth anniversary. See what's written on it?" Sam sat up and looked at the faded white thread embroidered around the edges. She expected to see a date or some message, but she was surprised to see _Jasmine Marie _and _Daniel John_ there instead.

"Why… why are Jazz and Danny's names on here?" Sam asked. Maddie smiled at the memory.

"Well, right before our tenth anniversary, a friend of ours asked us what the best thing about our marriage was," Maddie explained. "And we both answered 'our children'. They really are the best thing that ever happened to us." Maddie sighed in contentment. Sam smiled and looked down at the blanket, glad to be accepted into such a personal memory.

"So, she had that blanket made," Maddie explained further. "To always remind us of the best things to ever happen to us."

Just as Maddie finished, Sam suddenly began to feel light-headed and her stomach flipped over a couple times.

"Ohhhhh crap," Sam muttered. "UGH. I haven't had to stomach flu since I was really little. I'm going to _kill_ Tavis," she said.

"Tavis?" Maddie asked.

"Brian Tavis," Sam replied. "I was working on something with him, and then he got the stomach flu. And now _I _have it, and it sucks."

Just at that moment, the door slammed shut, Danny bounding into the room. Sam frowned when she saw he didn't have any kind of medication with him.

"You forgot to go to the doctor, didn't you?" Sam said as Danny kissed her forehead. He stood back up, grinning.

"Nope! I went. I talked to him for awhile, too," he replied. "Which is why it took me so long to get here."

"So… why don't you have some sort of flu medication? Don't tell me you didn't get the prescription filled out," Sam said in a warning tone. Danny shook his head.

"Nope, no prescription needed," he said, sitting down on the couch next to her. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"So… are you just going to let me _die_ then?" she asked. Danny laughed.

"You're not _dying_, Sam. You're not even sick. Well, you might be, but it isn't the stomach flu."

"Oh? Then _why_ do I feel like _crap?_" she asked, glaring at him. Danny smiled at her, leaned down close to her ear, and whispered

"You're pregnant."

Sam blinked, a look of shock on her face.

"…_what?_" she said in a surprised face. Maddie was still standing at the edge of the couch, a questioning look on her face.

"You heard me right," Danny said, grinning. "The doctor told me he was surprised you didn't know when you came in; he said it was pretty obvious that if you knew the signs of morning sickness, you'd have known instantly."

"Wait, what? Morning sickness?" Maddie said. She turned to Sam. "You're _pregnant?_"

"I… guess I am," Sam said slowly. And then, at once, it hit her.

"Oh my GOD!" she cried, jumping up. She looked from Danny to Maddie, then placed her hands on her stomach. "No way. This isn't real."

"But it is," Danny said, ringing his arms around her and kissing her cheek. Sam threw her arms around is neck and hugged him tightly, Allowing him to swing her around.

"Can you believe it?" Danny said softly to her. "We're going to have a baby." Sam turned slightly to Maddie, a look of disbelief in her eyes. Maddie smiled.

"Remember what I said," she said. "It'll be the best thing that ever happened to you."

* * *

_Brian Tavis is the name of one of my classmates who no one likes because he's a huge dickhead. His was the first name that came to mind. Oddly enough, this was originally going to be an idea for something different when Danny comes in with flowers, but it somehow transformed into this. I don't know how, but it did. _


	16. 096: Into the Storm

**(096) Into the Storm  
**

* * *

The sharp water stung her eyes and filled her body, creeping into her ears and dripping into her mouth. She could barely keep her eyes open; it was raining far too hard and fast for her to see. 

The clouds before them were growing larger and larger with every moment; green flashes of light signaled the growing ferocity that the storm was showing. She shuddered in the rain that clung to her body and slid down her legs, freezing her to the touch. But she remained strong.

She glanced at him and smiled.

He looked back, a determined look on his soaked face... and nodded.

He took her hand, holding her warm flesh against his cold fingers. She gave him a loving smile, a smile that said _I'll do anything for you. I love you._

On her other side, her other friend attached what resembled a small rocket onto his forearm, lifting his eyes to her. She extended her hand and he took it, his dark fingers tensing in her pale, thin ones. He strengthened his grip and nodded to her when she looked at him with a look of defiance in her eyes.

"Are you ready?" she whispered. The edges of the Zone seemed almost trying to draw the trio in, to suck everything from their living bodies and feed off of it.

"No," one said on one side of her.

"Never," the other one said. But they smiled at her and each other.

"But we have to do this."

And, together, they ran into the growing storm.

* * *

_Another Art100 prompt. It was just DxS when I did it on dA, but I made it the three of them. Reaaaally short. Yeah._


	17. 030: Under the Rain

**030 – Under the Rain  
**

* * *

"I think it's going to rain," she said, her eyes trailing to the darkening sky. The ominous clouds had been rolling in all day, threatening to rain on the couple's parade. 

"Not until tonight," he said, looking up as well.

"It _is_ night."

"Later tonight." He smiled at her. "Unless the report's wrong..."

A low rumble was heard.

"Oh, it's _definitely_ going to rain," she said, turning to her boyfriend. "I say, let's get out of here before it does."

"Oh, come on," he said, sliding his fingers into hers and pulling her close to him. "It's not raining yet, and what's wrong with getting a little wet?"

As soon as he spoke, gentle rain drops hit them both. It started lightly at first; they didn't let it bother them as they began to half run, half walk back to Danny's illuminated brick house.

But it seemed as soon as they started getting close, the rain became harder. The next thing they knew, they were both soaked; their hair stuck to their faces and necks, their clothes sopping and stuck right on their bodies, their shoes making a satisfying _squelch_ with each step. In Danny's case, you could see right through his white t-shirt, as it was completely soaked.

"Danny, I told you we were going to get rained on!" Sam said, half laughing, half scolding. They stopped underneath a street light, the light illuminating the rain drops around them. Danny tugged her close to him gently, using his fingers to push her hair out of her eyes and kiss her cheek gently.

"Dan-ny," she said, laughing, "we have to get inside or we'll be even more wet."

"Okay, there is _no way_ we could be even _more_ wet," he said back to her. She looked up at him, raising her hand to his face, moving his raven black hair from his wet face.

He caught her hand and placed his in it, and put his other hand on the back of her head, drawing her closer. They're noses touched as they looked at each other, into their eyes.

They were both like drowned rats, soaking right to the bone. But they didn't mind.

* * *

_This was the very first Fanart100 prompt I did on dA, along with my very first DP fanart. This was the story that went with it - it's one of my favorites. It seems that whenever I update TW I update this, too.  
_


	18. Your Own Starlit Sky

**Your Own Starlit Sky  
**

* * *

She wasn't expecting it.

She was just standing at her bedroom window, staring outside. Ever since she was small, she wished she could own the stars. It would be a magnificent thing, she had thought, owning the stars. A powerful responsibility.

"I want to own a starlit sky," she would say in quiet tender moments, her voice hushed and her body lethargic.

She had no idea it was coming.

As she lived in her daydreams, a silken scarf she had received as a gift some years ago daintily slid around her eyes, jerking her back to life.

"W-what?" she stammered, feeling a pair of calloused hands on her shoulders. She felt a cool breath on her neck and bit her lip.

"It's alright," a soothing voice said to her. "C'mon, I have a surprise for you."

It was Danny.

"A surprise?" she whispered. She felt him nod, and then suddenly, she felt the familiar, tingling feeling of becoming intangible. It felt like cool water and sugar and fairy dust all mixed together in a luminescent mix. To her, that's what it was, anyway.

She felt her feet touch down wobbly, and felt his hand on the small of her back as he gently pushed her forwards.

"Go straight," he said, and she walked with her hands outstretched, feeling the tips of leaves and gliding over tree trunks.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"You'll see."

She could feel the cool night air nipping at her bare arms and bare shoulders as well as she could feel his warm body right behind hers. She felt as if she were being led into a different world.

"...Y'know, I'm getting really tired of this." She felt his hands on her shoulders and his cool breath on her neck as he chuckled lightly. Her fingers trailed over her own silk scarf, used against her. It was wrapped around her head, covering her eyes. Danny had sprung on her with it and was blindly leading her _somewhere._

She felt the cool underbrush rub against her bare legs and her shorts catch onto a twig. She grappled around by her thigh to get it away when she felt his hand race over her leg and push it away for her, his fingers dancing up her thigh and intertwining with hers.

"We're here," he whispered into her ear. "Are you ready?"

She nodded.

Danny untied the scarf from around her head and opened her eyes. She gasped and her eyes widened in shock, staring at the darkened, open field around them.

The entire place was lit up with what, at first glance, resembled... _stars._

"What...?" she whispered. Danny leaned over her shoulder, reached up, and gently closed his fist over one of the stars. He brought it down into her own palm, releasing it against her fingers. It was a firefly.

"It's your own starlit sky," he whispered to her.

Sam gasped in delight, feeling the wings of the firefly flitting against the palm of her hand.

"Oh, my God," she whispered. She looked around, seeing all the flashing lights around her. "Wow."

Danny wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned his head on her shoulder blades.

"I told you I could do anything for you," he whispered. "See?"

* * *

_Wrote this forever ago, thought it was okay. Cute. _


	19. It's Not Over

**It's Not Over  
**

* * *

It would never be over.

Not for me, and certainly not for him.

I narrowed my eyes, not that he could really see them behind my visor. His fluorescent eyes widened in fear as he glanced at me; almost as immediately as he did, he sped off, and I felt that familiar chill that all ghosts possessed.

I straightened up, letting him go for now. My God, I was tired. So incredibly tired that I almost felt like I could just collapse and fall asleep on the ground I was standing on.

It's funny, really, how I thought about that almost as soon as I followed through with it. I was consciously aware of my staggering legs, my haphazard breathing and my falling body. Next thing I knew, I was landing on the ground and I was thinking to myself _Wow, I think I'm about to faint._

Although, I'd have to admit, it was nice opening my eyes and seeing two blue sapphires above me, filled with concern and worry, framed by a mass of messy, raven locks.

It was also nice to have him lean over me, wrap his arms around me as if protecting me from the world. In my half-conscious state, I was so tempted to just grab his face and pull him down, pull him down and kiss him half to death.

But something stopped me. I can't tell if it was because I was half-conscious, or some kind of self control kicked in, or what. I didn't even stop to think if he would wonder why exactly he found me beaten up around the corner.

Right before he turned away, I could have sworn I saw a flicker of bright green in his eyes, and a flash of white in his hair, before it was gone.

But it may just be the concussion talking.

* * *

_Yes, I am still a DxV fan. _


	20. 039: Dreams

**(039) Dreams**

* * *

She never even realized how magical this night was. 

She had wondered briefly why he insisted upon dragging everyone down to the courtyard, since everyone had already seen the giant tree the University put in the center every single year.

It seemed as if the entire campus was standing around that tree. She laughed as he pulled her right up next to it, so the glow of the lights reflected off their faces.

He was a bit tipsy; he had gotten a little too into the festivities with his father. He grinned at her, taking her hands.

"Okay, Sam," he said, holding his hands out in front of him. His fingers glowed bright blue, and in his hands formed a necklace fit for royalty... made of ice. He placed it around her neck, making her shiver.

"Danny!" she said, placing her hands on her neck. "It's freezing!" Before she had time to even react to the ice, she suddenly felt the coolness in her hair. He had made a tiara out of ice with his hands.

"You're an ice princess!" he exclaimed, creating other little pieces of jewelry to accompany the tiara. Sam sighed and laughed, wondering if he was tipsy or flat-out drunk. At twenty-four, it was a pathetic sight to see.

"...Now," he said, placing a crown made of ice on his own head, somewhat lopsided. Sam giggled and shook her head, wondering just how she ended up with such a ... looney.

She looked around at all their peers, their friends, and the people they had just been having a Christmas Eve party with. Until Danny dragged them away, into the cold night.

"We're ice royalty!" Danny exclaimed, taking her hands. He looked right into her eyes, watching them reflect the colored lights from the tree. Sam just laughed.

"Danny, I think you've had a bit too much to drink tonight," she said, smiling. She looked at the tree, realizing for the first time just how beautiful it really was...

She felt him tug on her hands.

She looked down, and was shocked to see him sitting on the ledge of the tree holder, while she was still standing. She grinned.

"Sam... will you be my queen?" he asked, smiling at her. She laughed and shook her head.

"You're too much, Danny," she said. But he was still looking at her.

"I'm serious," he said, all the goofiness gone from his voice. He stood up, reached into his pocket and pulled out a little black box. Sam's eyes widened at the sight.

_...What?_

"Sam," he said slowly, becoming serious. "I... I love you, and... I don't want to ever leave you. I want to spend forever with you..." he trailed off, then, sighing, opened the box. Inside was a little gold ring, with a clear white diamond in the center.

"...will you marry me?"

She stared at the ring, stared at him, and put a hand to her face. A feeling of just such happiness welled up in her chest, and, looking into his eyes, closed the lid of the case and placed her hand over it. She leaned in and placed her lips on his, putting her other hand on the back of his neck.

"...Of course," she whispered, putting her forehead to his. Little did they know that the entire courtyard stopped when they saw him pull out the ring, and were now cheering on a love that had been there forever.

* * *

_Another of my Art100 ficlets. I really really like this one._


	21. Bittersweet Symphony

**Bittersweet Symphony  
**

* * *

In my entire life, I had been independent. 

Ever since I was young, I never really wanted or needed to rely on others to get what I wanted. I was self-sufficient from a very young age; it was probably because of how lackadaisical my parents were when I was a child, but I was never whimsical or a 'dreamer'. I set my sights on real goals that I wanted to achieve.

I wanted to unwind the human mind, see into its crevices and dissect its secrets.

I made a name for myself with my stellar grades and my brilliant mind; Jasmine Fenton, local genius. Jasmine Fenton, Most Likely To Succeed. Jasmine Fenton, Ambitious.

It was the name I wanted people to see me as. I wanted to distance myself from my family as much as I possibly could. I wanted nothing to do with them.

That is, until I was inspired for the first time in my life.

My little brother. He was truly a blessing; I never realized it before. When my mother was pregnant with him, there were complications and it was miraculous he was born at all. He was small and adorable, but he never really wanted to come down to earth. He never paid attention in class, even though the teachers said when he became focused he as ahead of the class. He was brilliant, just like me. Just like my parents (although I wouldn't have admitted that four years ago.)

But he was a dreamer. He always had his head in the clouds, dreaming of fantastic things that could never become reality. I pitied him, really. I thought of my successful future, the wonderful living I would give myself. When he started high school, even though he was brilliant, schoolwork just didn't take to him, and he continued dreaming.

But that was when his brilliance truly shone through. After he gained his powers, I saw where he was the most powerful. The smartest. The most cunning. He turned his dreams and his aspirations into realities and did _incredible_ things with them. And over time, I began to see his world, his dreams and his life. I began to draw inspiration from the way he lived his life. He saw the beauty where the rest of us saw the mundane; he saw the strength where the rest of us saw the weakness.

He not only inspired me, but others as well. He became a source of inspiration for us all.

That was the first time I can ever say I was inspired. And it changed my life.

And—ooh, there he goes, they just called his name. He's not in the National Honor Society, nor is he in the top ten percent of his class. He's walking across the stage in a simple red gown and cap, no gold adorning his graduation clothes.

But he received one of the loudest cheers and applauses of all. The class Valedictorian, Salutatorian, and Essayist all gave him hugs as he passed; the principal and the advisors all beamed as they shook his hands.

Then he grabbed the side of his too-long gown, one hand on his graduation cap, and, with a huge smile on his face, glanced to the other side of the stage, where the other last person was standing, and the two of them raced to the back of the crowd of just-graduated high school seniors.

"I now congratulate the graduating class of two thousand and eight!" the principal said, tears in her eyes. And with that, myself, my parents, and the rest of the crowd stood up and cheered as the graduates all beamed at each other and tossed their caps high into the air.

Danny was in the center where they all fell, laughing and grinning as he tried to catch them all.

He had become my inspiration, all right. He had become everyone's.

And for that, I couldn't be happier.

* * *

_Something different aside from the romance and angst. Haha. Jazz reflecting on how her baby brother accidentally changed her life. Wrote it on a whim while listening to "Bitter Sweet Symphony" by the Verve._


	22. Are You Sure?

**Are You Sure?  
**

* * *

"Are you going to leave out the window?" Danny asked gently. Sam glanced at the window and sighed. Rain pounded the windows heavily and wind roared just outside. It was the very end of May, and it they were in the middle of a rainstorm. She shivered and leaned against Danny.

"I doubt it now…" she muttered. Danny stretched and stood up, glancing around the room.

"I'll go see if one of my parents can drive you home," he said, kissing her cheek. He left the room amid calls of "Mom?" and "Dad?" Sam just remained with her back against the side of his bed, smiling. She had just gone through three hours of frustration, trying to teach Danny quadratics. Finally it had gotten through to him, and after sneaking into his house against her parents wishes, she had to leave. But the rain was like a monsoon outside…

"He'd better get an A+," she muttered to herself. It was then that Danny came back into the room, leaving the door ajar. He flopped down on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"So? What's the verdict?" Sam asked, standing up and leaning over him. He rolled his eyes.

"No one's home," he said breathlessly. "I have no idea when they left or even where they are, but they're all gone." Sam giggled.

"They probably forgot I was here, didn't they?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," Danny replied. "Although with all your frustrated yelling, I'm surprised they did." Sam grinned and leaned over him, laying a kiss on his lips. Danny smiled and sat up, taking her into his arms. She nuzzled into his neck, kissing it gently. Danny pulled away from her and sighed.

"This has to be documented or something," he said, standing up. Sam pulled her legs up onto the bed and watched him walk around the room. "The first day – the only day – that my parents left me alone in the house with a girl who wasn't Jazz." Sam giggled. "And I know once they find out what they did, they'll never let it happen again until I'm married. Hell, even afterwards they'll still be monitoring me." Danny returned to the bed, sitting down beside Sam, sliding his arms around her.

Sam linked arms with him, giggling as Danny kissed her cheek. She turned so his lips landed on hers, surprising him. She slid her arms around his neck and he pulled her against him, kissing her harder. She pulled away, lingering before him, sliding her arms to his waist.

Danny blinked, leaning forwards and kissing her gently again. Slowly, she pulled him down so he was leaning on top of her, and he slid his arms underneath her back. Sam pulled away, pulling her arms in front of her and brushing his hair out of his face and running her hands over his shoulders.

"Danny," she said slowly, "…I…"

"If you don't want to do this," he said to her, "you don't have to."

"No, that's not what I meant," she replied. "It's just… I told myself that when I finally did this… I would only do it with one person. I promised myself that I would only do this… with someone I intended on spending my life with…" she trailed off, becoming lost in his deep blue eyes.

"…I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she replied.

It was the first time either of them had ever said that to someone outside of immediately family. For a moment it seemed as if they had been frozen, eyes locked on one another. Then he leaned down and kissed her. He slid his hands up her top, pulling it up over her head as he kissed her. She put her hands on his chest, breathing deeply. She had never known what it was like to want someone so badly; whether with her body or her heart, she had never wanted him more than at that moment.

Danny pulled away from her, allowing her to run her hands underneath the collar of his shirt and slowly work her way to pulling it off. The room was so warm inside and outside it was so dark and cold, it was almost as if the atmosphere were inviting them to be together. He kissed her cheek and her neck, his chest bare, and as he did, he leaned in close to her ear, nuzzling the side of her neck. He had never experienced anything like this before – never in his life had he wanted to have someone as much as he wanted her…

"Sam, we don't—"

"I want to," she replied, cutting him off, turning slightly to face him. "And I know you want to, too."

She could almost hear him smile.

* * *

_This is actually an excerpt from a fic that never got off the ground. Some of you may have seen part of this as the ficlet for "063: Do Not Disturb" over on dA. This is very, very old. Last year old. I just found it and thought it deserved a spot here. Thankfully I've improved since then!_


	23. Let It Shine

**Let It Shine  
**

* * *

As carefully and as quietly as she could, she flicked the Zippo open and lit the candle at the foot of her bed. She crossed her pale legs and pushed her long, raven locks behind her shoulders, positioning the candle in its old-fashioned holder on a book. Sam sat back, careful not to tip the candle over and set the blanket aflame.

She smiled at the single flame; she loved the way it reflected just enough light to discern what everything was in her room, but that everything was hazy and vague. Her window was open and she could feel the cool breeze come in.

On the candle, a faint Star of David had been etched into it years ago, probably by her grandmother. Sam wasn't particularly religious, but she always loved candles, especially the care and beauty that religious candles provided.

She began humming a little hymn; a hymn that was Catholic. She smiled to herself. She had once learned it from a friend, a very, very long time ago. She had gone with her friend to a service at her Catholic church, to see what it was like. She couldn't have been older than five or six, but one of the songs that the choir sang sank into her heart and soul from that day forward. In the solitude of her room, she would sing it gently to herself, smiling and relaxing in its comforting rhythm.

When Danny had first gained his powers, Sam started lighting this candle every night, like a plea to God to protect him. She wasn't sure why she felt like she needed to do it; Danny was strong and smart, he could protect himself. But doing this just made her feel more at ease with herself. The thought of someone greater than him, watching out for his every move… it was wonderful.

It had been three years since he got his powers. He barely needed a prayer to protect himself now. Not since he gained hundreds of thousands – maybe millions of supporters. Not since he began growing more and more powerful every year, with a reputation of one of the most powerful ghosts around.

But she still did it anyway, humming that same, familiar tune, wiggling in delight. She looked out the window into the twilight, and began singing it gently to herself.

"Oh, this little light of miiiiine… I'm gonna let it shiiiiine… This little light of miiiine… I'm gonna let it shiiiiine… This little light of miiiiiiine… I'm gonna let it shiiiiiine. Let it shine, shine, shiiiine, let it shiiiiine…" She pushed her hair away from her face and got up, leaning on her windowsill.

"All in my home, I'm gonna let it shine… All in my home, I'm gonna let it shine. All in my hooooome, I'm gonna let it shiiiiine… Let it shine, shine shiiiine, let it shiiiiine…" She sighed and looked at the partially covered moon. She had heard a faint rustle, seen a glint of light outside her window.

"God give it to me… I'm gonna let it shine… God give it to me, I'm gonna let it shiiiine… God, give it to me, I'm gonna let it shine…. Let it shiiiine, shiiiine, shiiiine, let it shiiine…"

She saw it again. It whizzed past the moon, temporarily blocking it out. She smiled and wondered just how many people saw him out there, silently thanking him for all he had done. He went above and beyond what anyone could have ever expected of him. He was a beacon of hope for everyone around them, all the time. All of the time…

But he was all hers.

"Everywhere I go, I'm gonna let it shine…" she whispered. "Let it shine, shine, shine, let it shine…"

* * *

_If you watch me on dA, you'd know I've been obsessing over gospel music lately. I was listening to some when I wrote this, haha. Short ramble, I dunno what I was doing when I wrote this. Or thinking, actually. Anyway, the version of "This Little Light o' Mine" that I used here belongs to Aretha Franklin, not me._


	24. It Takes Two

_Warning: shameless, shameless fluff. Also, I suggest you read this while listening to "It Takes Two" from Hairspray.  
_

* * *

**  
It Takes Two  
**

* * *

Giggling ensued as he fumbled with the card key, slipping it into the lock and flinging the door open. A wave of air conditioning showered over them as he positioned himself in the doorway, bracing himself. 

"Okay," he said, grinning at her. "Ready?"

"Good luck—Ahhh!" Sam cried as Danny wrapped his arm around her legs and his other arm around her waist. He stumbled through the doorway, laughing amid Sam's cries of "Put me down! Put me down!" Danny set her down, her heels sinking into the plush carpet. Sam twirled, her wide, white skirt flinging out around her as she slid out of her white heels.

"Wow, this room is _gorgeous_," she breathed, walking over to the window. "And we get to spend two days here?"

"Yeah, our flight isn't until Tuesday, unfortunately," Danny said, taking off his white tuxedo jacket. "That was the earliest Jazz said she could book it."

"At least it's booked, right?" Sam said, walking over to Danny and hooking hands with him. She smiled and pecked his lips, walking away from him and putting her hands on her hips. She walked over to the window again, noticing something glinting in the moonlight.

"Ohh, look! The windowsill has a hinge… Oh, look, Danny! It's a window loveseat – see, it pulls out. That's so cool!" The 24-year-old grinned as she leaned on the window. Danny looked out with her, putting his hand on the small of her back.

"Wow, look at that," he noted, gesturing to the view. "Who could have known that Sarehsburg was so…"

"Pretty?"

"Yeah…" Sam plopped her head on Danny's shoulder, sighing softly. She turned and surveyed the honeymoon suite again, moving her shoes to near to door as opposed to the middle of the floor.

Danny came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her, his new gold wedding band glinting in the light from the room. Sam closed her eyes and smiled, leaning against him. She clasped her hands over his and just stood there, letting him hold her up.

She turned around, his hands still gently on her waist, she wrapping her arms around his neck. Without saying a word, she kissed him gently, allowing him to wrap her closer to his body.

Before they could progress any further, Sam pulled away, listening.

"Hey – do you hear that?" she whispered. Danny looked at her, confused.

"Hear what?"

"The reception; I can hear the music, although faintly," Sam said, loosening from his grip. She closed her eyes and knelt on the floor, listening. The reception lasted until one in the morning; they had jumped ship at midnight.

"What're they playing?" Danny asked.

"It's… I don't know," Sam answered. "It's kinda like a slow song… it's so pretty. I know I've heard it before…" At that, the jazzy saxophone riffs she heard broke away into singing.

_"They say it's a man's world… Well, that cannot be denied. But what good's a man's world, without a woman by your side?"_

"What kind of song is _that?_" Danny asked. Sam giggled.

"It's from a musical." She stood up taking his hands in her own.

"Would you like to dance?" she asked. Danny sighed.

"Haven't we done enough of that tonight?" he asked, and Sam punched his shoulder playfully.

"C'mon, just one more," she whispered. Danny smiled and wrapped one arm around her waist, and took her hand in his free one.

_"And so I will wait, until that moment you decide…"_

"Oh, I know this song," Danny said in a soft voice, spinning her around. "Jazz _loved_ this song all through college. It was the song she and what's-his-face—"

"Your _brother-in-law?_" Sam said, laughing. Danny rolled his eyes.

"Yeah – this was their first dance. I think I know practically all the words…"

_"That I'm your man, and you're my girl… That I'm the sea, and you're the pearl… It takes two, baby, it takes two."_

Sam leaned against his chest, smiling, closing her eyes. She had never imagined that she would ever be at this moment in her life; she never thought she would get married.

_"Babe, without a chick to call his own…"_

"…So please, darling, choose me, I don't wanna rule alone…" Danny whispered to her. Sam opened her eyes and looked at him. Never, in her life, had she heard him sing. It was something he never did. His voice wasn't bad at all, either, it was just… surprising.

Danny again scooped his bride up into his arms, spinning her around quickly, then slowing down, moving to the slow beat resonating from downstairs.

"It's louder now," Sam said softly.

"They probably think we can't hear it," Danny said back. He smiled. "If we told them we were doing this, they wouldn't believe us." Sam sniggered. For a while they were in silence, Danny holding Sam in his arms. She had her arms around his neck, her head against his, realizing just how tired she was.

_"I dream of a lover, babe, to say the things I long to hear…_ _So come closer baby, oh and whisper in my ear… That you're my girl, and I'm your boy… That you're my pride, and I'm your joy. That I'm the sand, and you're the tide…"_

"…I'll be the groom, if you'll be my bride…" Danny whispered, looking at her face. It was then he noticed that, for the umpteenth time that night, tears were in her eyes, glinting in the soft light of the suite.

Sam leaned in close to him, and slowly drew his face towards hers. They stopped moving, Sam just draping her arms over his shoulders and closing her eyes, falling into the kiss. She knew she could say 'I love you' for the umpteenth time that night, but by now, she knew that it wasn't necessary.

_"It takes two baby… It taaaaaaaakes… two…"  
_

* * *

_Like I said, shameless fluff. Once I heard this song, I was dying to write something with it. Either this song or "Ladies' Choice". Anyway, random midnight ramblings. This is gonna be the inspiration for one of my Art100's down the road at some point. I think this was also inspired by watching Grease twice in a row. Anyway, the title and the random sporadic lyrics come from the song "It Takes Two" from the musical _Hairspray, _performed by Zac Efron. I've been obsessed with the soundtrack since I got it two days ago, haha. I apologize for the slight OOC-ness. And yes, Sam is wearing a white wedding dress. Why? I have an entire back story for why, but that's a story for another day._


	25. Ladies' Choice

**Ladies' Choice  
**

* * *

Danny was miserable, to put it bluntly. 

He had been ordered around all day like a dog, being used as a coat rack, a servant, and a carriage at different times throughout the day. He knew he was going to be in for this kind of treatment, but he never knew Sam had so much… energy.

For their five-year anniversary, Danny had said to Sam, "We can do whatever you want for the entire day."

And Sam had taken him up for that offer. At first it was fun; they went to an early movie (only people in the theater at 9:50) and had a ridiculous lunch of milkshakes and different colored M&Ms with a Girl Scout troop at a candy shop. However, after their high-sugar lunch, Sam had whipped out her debit card and given him a devious smile. It was two-thirty then,

It was eight thirty-five now.

Laden down with several full shopping bags, Danny leaned against a shelf, noticing the perspiration on his forehead for the first time that day. He had to hand it to her; she was certainly a zealous shopper. Must have been something she inherited from her mother, he thought. Or maybe just her wealthy upbringing.

Granted, most of her purchases had been for her dorm room at her new school; sheets, pillows, clocks, coverings, yadda yadda. But as soon as he thought he had been dragged into every store she would want to go in, she surprised him by dragging him into one of those giant we-have-everything megastores.

"What're we doing in here?" Danny asked, hoping it didn't mean more bags for him to carry. Card in hand, Sam just gave him that smile again.

"Something for you this time," she said, heading off into the store. "Go the way I went in twenty minutes; I told you I had something special in store as a thank-you." And then she vanished.

Danny was comfortably sitting on the linoleum floor next to a toy aisle when he realized twenty minutes had gone by. Sighing, he stood up; grabbing all the bags he had been forced to carry.

He wandered down the path, looking at all the shelves. This store really had _everything,_ didn't it? And what could Sam possibly be buying here that would benefit _him?_ He was in the misses' section.

As he walked, he noticed a rack of random sale clothing that was all red or hues of red. And on top was a piece of paper folded over with his name scribbled on it. Confused, he picked it up and unfolded it, seeing a hastily written note.

From a few racks over, just as Sam was finishing her purchase (with cash, so her parents couldn't see this purchase), she saw Danny notice the note. She moved away from the cashier and watched, hidden. She smirked and felt her face grew hot as she saw his eyes widen, his jaw drop and his face turn as red as the rack he was standing next to. He almost dropped the bag he was holding in his hand.

She giggled. She was curious as to what his reaction would be to reading such a _bold_ note. Especially when she told him of all the things they could do... or rather, the things that _he_ could do to _her_...

As hastily as he could, he shoved the note inside his jacket, his eyes darting around nervously, wondering if anyone had seen. Sam laughed and ran over to him, kissing his cheek and taking his hand in hers.

"Did you—?" he started, still red in the face. Sam winked and yanked on his arm, running out of the store with him following. Danny noticed a white bag hanging from her elbow, and upon closer inspection he noticed something black, silky and lacy inside the bag.

Suddenly Sam stopped out on the dark sidewalk and turned to her boyfriend, running her hands over his shoulders.

"Did you read the back of the note?" she whispered. Blinking down at her, Danny shook his head and pulled out the note, turning it over.

On the back, written in Sam's cursively scrawl, it said

_My parents won't be home until tomorrow morning.  
_

* * *

_Ahaha. Ever since I heard the song "Ladies' Choice" from Hairspray, I've been dying to write something inspired by it. And when I listened to the lyrics more closely, I realized just how much of a suggestive song it really is, thus this. Random shameless fluff, once again inspired by a song from Hairspray sung by Zac Efron. Ugh. Anyway, a little OOC, but hey. I also have a drawing in the works inspired by this ficcie. Heh.  
_


	26. Kissing Sam

**Kissing Sam  
**

* * *

They were lying on their backs, faces towards the sky. Dusk was setting in, and the two of them had spent the entire afternoon running around town, chasing ghosts. 

Danny breathed deeply, hovering on the edge of sleep. He was so tired that he knew if he laid there for any more time with his eyes closed, he'd be gone in a flash. The grass was soft and cool, the breeze warm, and the sky was darkening. He felt the Thermos at his fingertips, cold and smooth to the touch. Next to him he could hear Tucker breathing as he stared at the sky.

"Danny?"

"Mmphf."

"You awake?"

"Sorta," Danny replied as he saw Tucker sit up, stretching his arms. He lowered them again and leaned on them, staring out at the town. He was silent for a time, as if contemplating something. Danny closed his eyes again and rested his arms behind his head, trying as hard as he could not to fall asleep.

Finally, after awhile, Tucker spoke.

"Danny… what's it like to kiss Sam?"

Danny's eyes shot open and he turned to Tucker, his face heating up and his eyes wide. He sat up and stared at Tucker, his mouth slightly ajar.

"Wait, _what?_" he asked. Tucker gave a small smile and blushed a little, too, looking down at the ground.

"I know, it's a bizarre question, but… I don't know, I… it just came to me," he said slowly. He shrugged. Danny blinked, still a little taken aback.

"But… Tuck, you've kissed her before," Danny replied, thinking back to their Freshman year. Tucker shrugged again.

"It was really quick and I didn't realize what I was doing," Tucker said. They sat in silence a little longer, Danny wondering if he should answer Tucker. It was a private thing, wasn't it? The two had dated for two years; sure, he had kissed her many times in those two years. And besides, he had never actually thought about what it was _like._ Just that it was… nice.

"You don't have to answer, it was a weird question," Tucker said finally. But Danny crossed his legs and looked at his friend. Something in the way Tucker had asked… he had asked with such sincerity, as if he was actually curious. As if maybe he was wondering what it was like to kiss your best friend so passionately.

"Well…" Danny started, drumming his fingers on his leg, "I… I don't know. I mean, I've never thought about it before. I guess it is – was really nice, which is a lame description, but… it's the truth." Danny struggled with words in his brain, furrowing his forehead and scratching his head. Sam would have hit him over the head for using such lackluster words.

"Well, okay, I guess, since its Sam, at first, it was really weird. Well, not _weird,_ but, this feeling that I was kissing my _best friend._ But then,.. it got better. It started to feel more natural, and it certainly became more… _enjoyable._" Danny stopped for awhile, feeling incredibly awkward but wanting to continue. He glanced at Tucker and he wasn't even looking at him, instead brushing his hand over the long blades of grass around them.

"And it's funny, because… she tasted like cherries!" Danny said with a bit of a laugh, smiling up at the sky. He could feel the rims of his eyes burning with the memory, and he forced them to remain dry. "Y'know, someone like Sam… you wouldn't think she would. But she did. I think it was a lip balm or something she used, but… I remember being surprised. Y'know, with her being a Goth and all…" Danny sniffed and smiled at Tucker, who gave a small smile back. "And she was always smiling when she kissed, which made it feel funny, but… she would just come running up to me, a great big grin on her face, and throw her arms around my neck and kiss me…"

Danny wiped his face, warm tears wetting his cheeks. Tucker bit his lower lip, his own eyes blurring from tears. He had to take his glasses off and rub his eyes with his sleeve to stop the tears, but they began anyway.

Danny was still talking.

"And… and her heart was always beating so fast," Danny said in a softer voice this time. He placed his hand on his chest. "I could feel it when she was against me."

Danny turned to his friend, the sun having sunk beneath the horizon. He coughed a little and wiped his eyes again, the tears having slowed down as they cascaded down his face. Tucked looked up, the sky streaked with pinks and blues and reds and violets. He could even see the waning moon and a couple of the first stars. Danny looked up as well.

"I miss her," Danny murmured. Tucker smiled at the sky, smiling wider than he had in recent months. He knew she was up there, somewhere, disapproving of the color scheme of the dusky sky and reprimanding Danny for talking about the things they used to do together.

"Me too, Danny."

* * *

_I came up with the idea for Tucker to ask Danny that question while reading _1984 _last night (don't ask me why) and while I was typing up said idea, I listened to "Walk With You" by Dispatch over and over and changed it into this. Random blurby thing. I also liked the idea that, even though she had such a dark nature, Sam tastes like cherries. Haha. Also, I know Tucker asked the question in the present tense, as if Sam were still alive, but I thought Tucker might do something like that to momentarily make his grieving friend forget that she was gone.  
_


	27. 007: Heaven

**007 - Heaven  
**

* * *

Arms full of flowers, the girl cautiously pushed the wrought iron gate back, and stepped over the rocks at the gate and into the cemetery. Night was falling fast, and the trees were dappling the fading sunlight over all the tombstones. 

The girl turned around, her sky blue eyes watching the street outside the cemetery. She watched her mother and her aunt walk across the street and join her in the cemetery. Her mother was fluffing her dark brown curls furiously, trying to hide the gray. Her aunt, who had raven black hair, didn't even seem to notice the gray streaks that had slowly crept into her locks. Even with the faint wrinkles at her eyes and lips, her sky blue eyes - same as her niece - were still filled with their youthful sparkle.

"Keep going on the path, Danielle," her mother ordered, pulling her hood tighter. Three times a year they came to this place-- and it was always chilly when they came on this day.

Danielle trotted down the path, scoffing at the trees that were beginning to bud. Her mother and aunt followed behind her, smiling at the foliage.

"It's so nice this time of year, isn't it, Lilith?" the elder of the two said softly, admiring the new plants. Lilith shrugged.

"I don't understand why it's so cold," she said, fluffing her curls once more. "It's April for God's-- DANIELLE, PICK THOSE UP!"

Danielle had let part of the bluebell bouquet drop, and she hurriedly picked it up and frowned at her mother, running deeper into the cemetery.

"I swear, that girl..." Lilith murmured. Her sister chuckled.

"She's just like Dad," she said. She sighed gently. "I wish he could have met her."

"I don't know if he would have liked her," Lilith commented. Finally, the two of them had caught up to Danielle.

As per tradition, Danielle laid the bluebell bouquet on one side of the grave, and the bouquet of purple geraniums on the other side. She smiled at the grave, and stood up.

"Mom," Danielle said, turning to her mother, "Would Grampa have liked me?" Lilith sighed.

"I dunno; what do you think, Ailidh?"

Ailidh looked up at the darkening sky, then back at the grave. She smiled.

"Well, I like you, and people always used to say I was the female version of your Grampa," Ailidh said, chuckling a little. "And Nana liked you, so... I guess he would have."

Danielle smiled, and walked away, going back to the car. She left the two women to marvel at their parent's lavish granite tombstone, laden with other flowers and monuments and such. Someone had even hung a Danny Phantom pendant from years and years ago from the side.

"A bouquet for Dad's birthday," Ailidh said softly.

"And a bouquet for Mom's death," Lilith finished. "Both in the evening." Lilith kissed her fingers gently, and placed it on the grave. She then turned and walked after her daughter.

"Coming?"

"In a minute." Ailidh smiled at the grave as she stood there, alone. The oldest of six children; three boys, three girls. Three of them halfas.

A familiar wind picked up, and Ailidh looked up at the sky, closing her eyes. As she turned away, she could have sworn that, for a moment, she saw two teenagers sitting on the grave, giggling and hugging, but when she looked back... they had vanished.

* * *

_The picture that I drew with this has a translucent Danny and Sam sitting on a joint tombstone. Danny died at 39 and Sam at 69, and she died on Danny's birthday, which, in my world, is April 4th. I thought I should explain this since you people can't see the picture. Random blurb._


	28. Almost Lovers

**Almost Lovers  
**

* * *

Her window was wide open. She had opened it as soon as she got home, but had fallen asleep before closing it. She lay on her side on her bed, her blankets bunched up by her feet. Her arm was her pillow, her other hand resting on a pile of papers. She had been reviewing colleges when she got home from work. 

Her room was decorated with old newspaper clippings, photographs and meticulous schedules. On the floor, various metal parts to various metal things were strewn everywhere, abandoned where she had left them yesterday.

A chilly wind blew into the room, and she subconsciously shivered, pulling her body a bit tighter. She didn't wake; she was too far asleep to be woken up by something like the night air.

She had no idea of the intruder cautiously making his way into her room. Passing harmlessly through the wall, he had no idea what he was doing there or why he felt the need to enter the room. He had been going by when he noticed her window wide open and, as he found he often did, he went into her room, watching her sleep.

Every time he did it, he felt as if he were doing something horrible. He would get nervous and scared, as if someone were watching him. After the first time he did it, he didn't do it again for weeks. But when he was passing by… he couldn't help but notice her pastel curtains against the bleak white of all the other windows in the building. And she was almost always asleep, normally because she fell asleep while doing work or something.

But nowadays he was doing it more and more… and it worried him.

He treaded slowly into her room, breathing slowly. He walked over to her bed and stood above her, watching her breathe. Her hair was askew behind her head, and her right hand was clenched loosely in a fist, resting upon a catalog about some local college.

As gently and as quietly as possible, Danny grabbed the edges of her blanket and brought it up over her shoulders, hovering over her.

Valerie didn't wake; she almost never did when Danny tucked her in. He laid the blanket over her shoulders and pushed her hair gently off of her face, smiling down at her. He straightened up, his hand resting on the radio on his belt, which he had turned down so as not to disturb her sleep.

"Good night," he whispered, backing out of the room, that familiar (but not quite as strong as before) feeling of guilt riding into his chest. As he zoomed away from her apartment, Valerie burrowed deeper into her blankets, unaware of her secret, unwilling admirer from her early high school days.

* * *

_Okay, so the DxV fan in me made me write this. I really think that the writers should have elaborated more on the relationship between Danny and Valerie, mainly because it gave more dimensions to the characters. I mean, I love DxS, but I wish they would have spent more time on Val in the 3rd season as opposed to shoving DxS at us. Anyway, this is post PP, hence the reason Danny feels so guilty about his little nighttime diversions. I don't peg Danny as being a cheater - he'd prolly die before cheating on someone - but I do peg him as a teenage boy who is unsure of his emotions. I dunno. Although I absolutely love DxS and figure that they'll be together in the end, I can't help but think that, at some point in their high school careers, Danny and Val become a very interesting couple... haha. Well, enough babbling. This was inspired by the song "Almost Lovers" by A Fine Frenzy. Perfect DxV song, if you ask me._


	29. Almost Lovers: 2

_Warning: This is very heavily DxV. It's also a bit OOC, and yes, Danny does cheat on Sam. (Oh crap!) But it was an idea that just won't die, and it's interesting to delve into the human mind as to why we do things. I'll definitely be elaborating on this more from time to time,so expect to see more installments. I don't want to hear any crap about this being OOC; think of it as an AU or something. I got some pretty annoying comments on dA that I want to avoid!_

* * *

**Almost Lovers (Two)**

* * *

She never really thought about who visited her in the night. In Valerie's mind, she was the one bunching into her blanket at night. She almost always woke up with it up to her shoulders nowadays, even though she could remember never pulling it up that high nearly her entire life. She didn't even think that it could be someone watching over her. 

The night she woke while he was there, she was perfectly still and silent. She opened her eyes a crack and watched his ethereal form phase into the room, his iridescent glow illuminating to dark room. He looked around for a moment, and then walked over to her bed. Carefully, he gently tugged the blanket from around her ankles and pulled it up over her shoulders, tucking it in around her. A small smile played on his lips.

She had to admit, not matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop her breath from (momentarily) catching in her throat when his fingers grazed her arm, or keep her heart from leaping out of her chest. Despite everything they had been through, the feelings she harbored for Danny so long ago still lingered.

Although she was confused as to what he was doing in her room so late at night so often, she didn't mind it. Of course, she did worry slightly as to his motives. Why would he visit _her,_ of all people? They hadn't spoken face to face outside of strict school situations in close to a year. Even if she saw him in the hallway, she looked away. They're past was far too messy and confusing to sort out. They both needed time, and lots of it, to figure out just what happened to them. She had her life and he had his. He had fame, fortune, a girl friend, everything. She was practically in hiding, trying to piece her life together after he shattered it. After everything she knew was uprooted and thrown around.

And yet, here he was, leaning over her, pushing her curled locks off her cheek and grazing it with his fingers. Eyes closed, she pretended to be asleep, trying to will herself to steady her breathing. And, as mysteriously as he showed up, he vanished.

After that one night, nearly every time he came, she woke up. Her body was almost always ready for the temperature drop that was associated with his appearance.

One night, in early February, he arrived just as he always did, shutting the window she had accidentally left open. The entire room was freezing. Valerie shivered in her bed, her blanket pulled over her waist. But it was a thin blanket, one that couldn't possibly be keeping her warm.

Frowning, Danny glanced around and noticed a large, woolen blanket in her closet. After much maneuvering so he wouldn't make a sound, he tugged it out and unfolded it, laying it gently over Valerie's body.

This time, Valerie didn't wake up as she normally did without his knowing. Danny laid the blanket over her, leaning over her and pulling the blanket beneath it up as well. He had to actually kneel on her bed – partially kneeling, partially hovering – to reach around her and place the blanket on her properly so she wouldn't wake.

He leaned over her, his arms grazing her shoulder briefly, which were bare thanks to the tank top (in February?) she was wearing.

Maybe because it was so cold, or maybe because she was just so used to waking up before he came, Valerie jerked awake, and opened her hazel eyes just as Danny was leaning over her on her bed.

Lying on her back with her arms above her head, she looked up into his glowing eyes, not surprised at all. Danny was tense at first, and then relaxed upon seeing her unsurprised expression.

She moved her eyes around his face, taking in the differences from when she last saw him up close. They had both changed so much over the last year; almost juniors now, which was a scary thought for both of them.

Danny didn't move from his position. Instead, he smiled down at her gently. Her heart nearly leapt from her chest with excitement. She knew those feelings were still there, deep inside her. He reached out and touched her face, pushing her hair out of her eyes. Her hair had grown incredibly long since he last saw her so close…

Neither of them saw it coming. Danny had leaned closer to her, pushing her hair out of her eyes, green eyes meeting hazel, when the next thing they knew, their eyes were closed, and their lips pressed together; she slid her arms around his neck and pulled him down next to her, not letting him go.

When she pulled away from him and opened her eyes, sky blue eyes met hers with a wave of black hair falling into his eyes. She put her hands on his cheeks and kissed him again, a strange hunger for him bubbling up from inside. He pulled himself towards her, his hands on her waist, turning his head and falling deeper into the kiss, allowing himself, kissing her back.

All rational thought had left his mind; all he knew was that he wanted her, had to taste her lips, and had to lie in her arms. He had no idea where these feelings suddenly came from; they just welled up in his chest and the next thing he knew, he was kissing her. He was kissing her more ferociously now, feeling the smooth skin of her lower back on his fingertips.

When they parted briefly, a soft sigh escaped from her lips before kissing him again, her fingers caught in his thick dark hair, holding onto the back of his neck as if she'd die if she let go.

It was strange, and completely uncalled for; neither of them was sure where this sudden passion had erupted from, but it was there. It was if something had triggered inside of them, a river of emotion that couldn't be dammed.

All they knew was, at the end, their lives were never the same again.

* * *

_And there you have it. The majority of this was written late at night. I dunno, it just started carrying itself away and I let it. Anyway, yes, expect more with this at some point. But nothing outside of this collection of stories._


	30. For You

**For You  
**

* * *

_Was it over?_

The world around him began to re-appear. The dream-like state he had just been caught in slowly evaporated. His eyes trained over all the destruction he had helped to cause. Town hall was in shambles; the clock tower had half fallen; he could see, in the distance, entire houses now reduced to rubble, and glass buildings now death traps.

The sky was slowly clearing up, but as he looked down, he saw rivers of blood flowing between his feet. All around him, people were grabbing onto their loved ones, pulling them out from crumbled buildings. His eyes fell on the clock tower.

_Someone he knew had been in there—_

Behind him, large pieces of rock were tinted with crimson from where they fatally hit people in the head in the midst of battle.

_Someone he knew had been standing right there—_

"Danny!" a voice cried. He turned, surprised to see Jazz running towards him. Her lip was bleeding and she was covered with dirt, but aside from that she appeared to be alright.

"Jazz," he murmured, allowing her to embrace him. It was then he realized she was using only her left arm, and her right one hung limply, the skin blood-soaked underneath her sleeve.

"Jazz, your arm—"

"Oh, this?" Jazz said, scoffing. "This is nothing." Danny smiled faintly. "You saved us all, Danny."

"I'm not so sure…" Danny muttered, looking around. He turned back to Jazz. "How're Mom and Dad?"

"Fine, they were able to protect most of the people here," Jazz said proudly. Danny's mood greatly improved.

"And Tucker and Sam?"

At that, Jazz fell silent. She looked down at the ground, then back at Danny. Danny's heart plummeted in his chest. He grabbed onto his sister's good arm, his worst fears coming true.

"Jazz? H-how are they?" he stammered, shaking just a bit. Jazz closed her eyes and turned away. Behind her, Danny saw her; Sam. She was lying with her torso in her mother's lap, his own mother gently dabbing her bloody forehead with a cloth.

"Sam!" Danny cried, running over to her. He dropped down on his knees before her, shaking so much he wasn't sure if he would be able to touch her. Sam opened her eyes, smiling at him.

_"Take it," Sam said, dropping the ring into his open palm and closing his fingers. "You're going to need it."_

"Sam…" he muttered. Maddie moved away gently, giving her son a sad smile.

"You did it," Sam said in a voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so proud of you…"

"Sam, please," Danny begged, kneeling closer to her. She was so beat up… it seemed as if she were entirely covered in blood. With a groan, Sam pushed herself up and draped her pale fingers on his cheek.

"Some people may die," she said softly, "but if they hadn't, then thousands upon thousands would have." Danny took her hands in his, shaking his head.

_She had been inside the clock tower when it collapsed._

"Not you, Sam, not you," Danny whispered. Sam wobbled and fell back, her mother catching her and holding her in her arms. Danny leaned forwards, laying his forehead on hers. He closed his eyes and forced the tears to stay in his eyes. He listened to Sam breath, but it was bubbly and labored, as if just taking a breath were a great chore. He stayed there until her breaths slowly stopped; until her grip lessened in his hand, and her hand fell, landing on her abdomen, eyes closed, and silent.

_No, no, no no no no…_

And where was Tucker? He had been around, too. Danny stood up, head down, breathing hard. He couldn't do this. He wasn't that strong.

_I'm not strong enough…_

He already knew what had happened to his best friend, his comrade, his partner. He could hear Tucker's mother crying.

His mother _never_ cried.

This was all his fault. Because _he_ got into a fight. Because the entity was after _him_. For the past month, all of the destruction, the fires, everything – was to get to _him_.

Over an old grudge? Could it have only been that?

There had to be something he could do to _change_ this—

_"It's one of the few rules of the Ghost Zone," Dani said, rolling her eyes. "And eye for an eye, and life for a life. Give and take, duh."_

Danny opened his eyes. He turned around, looking at all the damage. He could feel the dirt and grime being washed off his cheeks by his own salty tears. He could hear the sirens wailing as the ambulances tried to force themselves through the rubble to get to where all the dead and dying lay.

Which now included two of the only people he loved and trusted in his entire life.

He clenched his fists. He closed his eyes.

_I, Danny Fenton, Danny Phantom—_

The sirens continued to grow in volume, one ambulance finally pushing through.

_—give up, on my own free will, my life—_

He was shaking so hard, he wasn't sure if they would take him seriously.

_—give up to the ancients, the spirits, the Heavens, to God Almighty, I exchange my life—_

He took a deep breath, his fists clenched, head raised upwards.

_—for the hundreds that have been lost because of _me.

And with that, there was a gust of warm wind, and the survivors witnessed as Danny Fenton's body crumpled to the ground.

* * *

_This is basically an end excerpt from an idea that I had ages ago in a post-PP world, where Danny becomes the target of a very vcious ghost and, naturally, goes after everyone and everything around him to get to him, that ends in an epic showdown and then Danny's own death because he gives up his life for everyone who died. Yep. Original, I know. Anyway, I wrote this a few weeks ago and found it just now... it's okay. Confusing and rushed, eh. I just really wanted something between the installments of the _**Almost Lovers** _series, heh._


	31. Almost Lovers: 3

**Almost Lovers (Three)  
**

* * *

He drummed his fingers impatiently on the arms of the couch, sighing. Jazz was nearby, curled into a thick armchair, muttering to herself and reading a rather thick book about human nature. 

Danny looked down and noticed that his hands were shaking slightly, and that his forehead was sweaty. He frowned and wiped his brow, leaning back and trying to relax.

Jazz raised her eyebrows and looked over her book at him, noticing his nervous movements. He had arrived home at one in the morning, sat down on that couch, and hadn't moved. Jazz, who had woken up after not being able to sleep due to the nap she took earlier in the day, hadn't said anything, accustomed to his showing up home at ridiculous night hours.

But this night he seemed… anxious. And nervous.

"Danny?" Jazz asked gently, lowering her book and closing it. "You okay?"

"Who, me?" he squeaked. Jazz blinked. He certainly _sounded_ incredibly nervous…

"Yes. You seem really… worked up." She chose her words carefully. "Is something wrong?"

At first he was quiet, looking down at his feet. He opened his mouth then closed it again; it seemed like he was trying to decide on something. "You know you can tell me anything, Danny."

"I know, but—" he started, but then a look of dawning appeared on his face, and his eyes traveled to the book, and then his sister's concerned face. "Actually… I-I was wondering if you could explain something about human nature to me."

Surprised, Jazz placed her book on the table beside her and repositioned herself on the armchair. A light snow had begun to fall outside.

"I suppose… what do you want to know?" she asked. Danny gulped and leaned forward, clasping his hands together and closing his eyes.

"Why do… why do we do things that we will later regret?" he asked carefully. Jazz seemed taken aback by the question.

"Like… when we act on impulse?" Jazz offered. Danny nodded. Jazz folded her hands over her knee and thought for a moment.

"Well… in simple terms, I guess," she began, "we see something, or an opportunity arises that presents itself as something we really want to experience, or think will affect us or pleasure us later on. I guess normally the affects of an impulse are very brief, but normally pleasurable for that moment. And – this isn't a scientific fact, by the way, but – most of the time, people do end up regretting impulses because they aren't always in their best interest in the long run."

Danny sighed and looked at the floor again, shaking his head. Jazz stood up and walked across the plush carpet, sitting next to him on the couch. She put her hand on his shoulder, but when she did, he flinched, and cowered away from her comforting hand.

"Danny… what happened?" she asked. "What did you do?"

"Something terrible," he said just above a whisper. "Something that I can never take back."

"Something like what?" Jazz asked. Danny turned to look at her, his arms folded in front of him. On closer inspection, he looked tired and hollow, as if part of him had died.

"I… I cheated on Sam, Jazz." The elder girl's jaw dropped slightly, her eyes widening in surprise.

"You _what?_" she hissed, remembering it was early morning. Danny hung his head, sighing deeply. "You – you cheated on _Sam?_ How—"

"I don't know," he said. "But it's been going on for awhile. Jazz – I just realized this now, but – I've been emotionally cheating on her." Jazz couldn't believe the words tumbling out of his mouth. Danny? _Her_ brother? The boy who pined after Sam for nearly four and a half months – the most loyal and trusting person she knew?

How?

"What? What happened? What do you mean?" Jazz asked. Danny shrugged and put his head in his hands.

"It's all my fault!" he said suddenly. "It's not Sam's fault, nor is it Valerie's."

"Wait, you cheated on _Sam_ with—"

"Yes," he said feebly. "I did." With a heavy heart, he launched into the story of visiting her room late at night, pulling her blankets up over her, watching her sleep. He explained how he had begun to make it nearly a nightly ritual, and that she was slowly invading his thoughts constantly, even when he knew in his heart he loved Sam.

And that, tonight, he had kissed her. He had looked her in her eyes, and seen the affection she once had for him still lingered, and a sudden burning erupted in his chest… and he had closed his eyes and leaned down and kissed her.

Jazz listened, half shocked, half interested. When he finished, she had her hands in her lap, staring at him with an expression he couldn't quite place.

"So…" she began, "where do you stand?" Danny looked at the floor again, and then right into Jazz's aqua marine eyes, his blue ones stern and decided. He had been thinking about this very thing for weeks on end.

"I love Sam," he said slowly. "I love her with everything I am. And I always will."

"But…" Jazz started.

"But…" he sighed. "I'm not _in_ love with her, anymore. I'm _in_ love… with Valerie."

"So, what does that mean?" Jazz asked warily, taken aback. How long had this been going on that Danny knew _exactly _what was happening?

"I _wanted_ to kiss her, Jazz. When I saw her… I wanted to. It was almost if seeing her had unlocked something inside me that wasn't there before. I'd never felt that way before… not even about _Sam_."

* * *

_Yes, more of this. This is fun. This is evil to the max. This is slightly OOC. But sooooo much fun. Besides, certain DxS fans (not naming names; I don't believe the people who I'm speaking of are any of my reviewers anyway) have been acting a bit self-righteous about the end of DP. It bugs me because a) it's a CARTOON, an b) they're only 14 years old. And everyone I know who was dating at 14 is no longer dating, so you never know!_

* * *


	32. Lean on Me: 2

_Note: this goes with the first "Lean on Me" that I wrote months ago that you can see earlier in this collection._

**Lean On Me (2)  
**

* * *

Sunlight poured into the oversized kitchen as Maddie opened all the curtains, allowing the sun to pour over her. It was the first truly warm day of summer, and she wanted to enjoy it. She had been woken up by the sounds of tiny feet above her bedroom – and she hadn't minded. As a matter of fact, she liked having those tiny feet sounds. It reminded her of a time when her own children were small and carefree. 

Now she had her grandchildren running around her house, up in the spare rooms in the Op Center. Three floors above her she heard the sounds of people moving around, and a floor below that she heard more people walking.

Suddenly, sounds like a stampede were heard as dozens of tiny feet padded down the stairs next to the kitchen. A boy with dirty blonde hair and bright emerald eyes came into the kitchen, followed by a black-haired blue eyed girl, an auburn-haired violet-eyed girl, and two little boys, one with the same dirty blonde hair, the other with strawberry blond hair.

"Why, good morning, everyone," Maddie said, smiling down at them. The first boy, the eldest of them all, leaned on a chair at the extended kitchen table, grinning.

"Morning, Nana!" they chorused and followed the oldest, clambering up onto stools and chairs. Maddie felt like she was running some sort of bizarre daycare center as opposed to housing her two children – and their families – for the summer.

The eldest, Cael, just nine years old, leaned on the table and helped to pull his cousin up into her seat. Ailidh grinned at him, showing off one of the teeth she had most recently lost. Cael's brother John was hanging onto the chair that Cael was in, and Lilith was doing a pretty lousy job at helping Pete into his seat.

"Okay, here we go," Maddie said, bending down and lifting both John and Pete into seats. "Where are you parents?"

"Mommy and auntie are upstairs," Ailidh supplied, swinging her legs. "Daddy's still sleeping."

"What about your father, Cael? Where's my son-in-law?"

"Sleeping, I think," Cael answered. Maddie leaned on the table and looked around at all the little faces looking back at her. It was such an amazing sight, one that even she couldn't believe sometimes. She could see the four adults that were above her in each and every one of them.

She could see Jazz's bright eyes and questioning smile in Cael; Danny's inquisitive nature and smiling face in Ailidh; Sam's beautiful eyes in Lilith and Peter, as well as her slender frame in the youngest of the three; and her son-in-law, Matt's award-wining smile in John. They were all cousins, Cael and John the sons of Matt and Jazz; Ailidh, Lilith and Pete, Danny and Sam's son and daughters. And they had all been living together under one roof for the past three weeks – Danny, Sam and their three in the Op Center, and Jazz, Matt and their two in Jazz and Danny's old rooms on the second floor. And of course, she and Jack in their room, in their old house that had been empty for far too long.

"MOM! I smell something good down there," a voice called, and suddenly Danny appeared in the doorway, barely a day over thirty. He smiled at the sight of his children and his nephews all sitting around the table, and walked over, wrapping his arms around Ailidh.

"Why, good morning," he said, kissing her on the head. He then kissed Lilith's head and picked up Pete, who was reaching out to him and saying "Da!"

"I see you all beat me here," he said matter-of-factly, allowing Pete to hang onto his arm. Maddie laughed and went back to the large breakfast she was cooking.

"Okay, everyone, into the living room, come on," she said, ushering her herd of grandchildren out of the kitchen. Being led by Ailidh, who was acting like she was a general before an army, they ran into the other room, landing on the long couch that was against one wall. Danny put Pete down on the floor and the three-year-old waddled into the other room after them. Danny sighed and sat down at the table just as Sam and Jazz came into the kitchen.

"Mom, I've said it before and I've said it again, you don't have—"

"Shush, Danny," she said, turning to face her son. She grinned. "It's been twelve years since I've had children in this house – and damnit, if I want to have eleven people living in this house all at once, I will."

Danny smiled and shook his head, chuckling under his breath.

_I'm glad, _he thought to himself, smiling as Sam sat down next to him and linked hands with him. _Really glad.  
_

* * *

_I'm just popping these out, aren't I? Well, I actually wrote this one around the time of the first one, but I didn't like it as much so I didn't post it. However, recently I've been inspired by A. Larosa's little ficlets about Danny and Sam's son Little Danny to revive the children I made up for them AGES ago, so I went back to this and revised it a little. I still don't like it as much as the first one, but it's better now. And super sappy. And, again, this is another thing to separate the "Almost Lovers" installments. Btw, the song "Lean on Me" is Bill Withers', and not mine.  
_


	33. Almost Lovers: 4

**Almost Lovers (Four)  
**

* * *

Valerie was sitting on her windowsill, staring out at the sky, watching the snow fall gently. She touched a hand to her lips, the remnants of a kiss still lingering. She curled up on the windowsill, leaning right against the cold glass, trying to wake herself up. She wasn't sure if what had just happened had been a dream or reality. 

If it were a dream… she hoped she would have that dream again, for it was a very nice, very pleasurable dream, one that had created feelings inside her she didn't know she had.

If it was real… she gulped. Her chest filled with dread. Nothing good could come of it. She was now perfectly aware that her feelings for Danny were still very real, even after all the years they'd been apart. Turns out that finding out he was her worst enemy didn't dampen her love for him.

She touched a finger to her lips. They still tingled from his kiss. She had never, in her entire life, kissed someone like that before. Or been kissed like that before.

What freaked her out the most was how natural it all felt. Amongst all the guys she had met and briefly dated over the past couple of years, none of them had felt as right as Danny had. As soon as he kissed her, she felt like she could sense all of his feelings and answers. She had pulled him down beside her, holding onto his neck, letting loose in a way she had never done before. And no words passed between them. None. And still she felt as if he were allowing her to do so.

Valerie shivered. It felt so right to be with him. She fit in his arms almost perfectly, and his embrace was so comforting…

"What am I gonna do," she whispered, not asking so much as stating. "I've gotten myself into something huge." Although, she wasn't entirely sure it was all her fault. For she didn't remember being the one to actually engage the kiss… she just remembered having the most wonderful feeling and wanting it to last forever and ever, and that the source of the feeling was the sixteen-year-old boy currently straddling her.

Scrunching herself into a corner, she wiped away condensation from the window and watched the snow fall through a circle of yellow light caused by the streetlamp outside. As she stared outside, her thoughts fell to Sam.

Sam Manson. She had known Sam as long as Danny had; they all went to the same elementary school together, because at the time, there was only one in their entire district. That was, of course, when she still lived in Amity Park as opposed to the outskirts. Still, Sam had always been cordial enough to her. When Valerie started getting closer to Danny, however, she had become very defensive and cold without even trying. Valerie knew now that her actions were for two reasons; one, because she was a ghost huntress hunting Danny, and two, because Sam was completely in love with Danny.

Over the years since then they had created a balanced friendship, of sorts. They were chemistry partners all last year, and they couldn't help but discover they had similar interests and developed a bond. Valerie just hoped that the similar love for Danny they held wasn't something that would be shared.

Sam had also defended her. When word got out that Valerie, as a huntress, had been hunting their beloved Danny Phantom, practically the whole town was up in arms about it. Sam was one of the few who defended Valerie, claiming that she had very personal reasons for her hunt. And that, of course, at the time, she had no idea it was Danny Fenton she was hunting. And the two became even better friends. Valerie began to see Sam as her first friend in a long time.

But… there was that ring. She saw it, every single day last year, on Sam's left ring finger, glinting in the fluorescent lights. It never seemed to dull or tarnish, interestingly enough. It was because the ring was a looming reminder of what she almost had that forced her to realize how much she still cared about him.

"I can't hurt Sam," Valerie decided. "Not after everything she's done for me. Even if I…" she stopped. She pressed her cheek against the window, and closed her eyes. She scrunched her hands into fists and placed them on her chest, right over her heart, and tightened herself even more into her windowsill. "Even if I love him," she whispered, sounding surprised to hear the words come tumbling out of her mouth.

"I love him," she said again. She wasn't sure why she was saying it; she hadn't spoken to him in near two years. But at the same time… everything had been so completely natural. His touch had raced through her, his eyes had captivated her, his scent had enthralled her. Their movements were more than movements, they were a scripted dance, and no words were needed. It was something she was sure he'd never felt before, either. Their chemistry—

Chemistry.

_Sam._

"Oh, God, what am I going to _do?_" she said, lowering her face into her knees. "What do I do?"

There was no answer**  
**

* * *

_This installment isn't as good. I wrote this while sleep deprived after having written about 20 pages worth of AP work. Good fun. But some reflection on Valerie's part, and some fun background nonsense I made up. Oh, and Valerie totally just has the hots for Danny, mmm-hmm. In the next installment, shit hits the fan when Danny talks to Sam. Uh-oh.  
_


	34. Dyeing

**Dy(e)ing  
**

* * *

Heart pounding, sweat beading down his forehead, he extended his right arm, gripped his right wrist with his left, and shot a powerful blast of energy straight out. 

A bright green flash exploded from his palm and nearly dissolved the target it was aimed at. He then took off, flying faster than seemed possible, and went intangible, ricocheting off the wall and doing a neat back-flip straight into the floor, where he re-surfaced roughly ten feet away. Landing on one leg and knee, he keeled over, panting, while Tucker clicked a stop watch.

"The flip added a couple seconds."

"It was cool, admit it."

"Well, it _was…"_ Danny stood up, stretching his arms over his head, regaining his breaths. He worked his shoulders as he walked over to his friend who was sitting cross-legged on a desk in the Fenton lab. Clipboard and pen in hand, he was hurriedly writing down notes and figures in a system no one understood save for him.

"Well, your numbers have improved since six months ago," Tucker concluded. "And they've vastly improved in the past year."

"What about since the very first test?" Danny asked, always curious. Tucked flipped a couple pages.

"Over double since you were fourteen."

"Excellent," Danny muttered, sitting down beside him. They sat for a moment in silence, Danny transforming back, Tucker scribbling away. Danny began fiddling with the silver ring on his left middle finger, turning it absent mindedly. Tucker leaned back against the wall, glancing down at his spacing-out friend.

"So," Tucker said, a smile creeping onto his face, "where is the future Mrs. Fenton?"

"Shaddup," Danny said, snapping back to reality. He sighed. "I dunno. She said she was busy with something."

"Busy? On a Friday night? With_out_ her boyfriend?" Tucker scoffed. Danny closed his eyes and leaned back.

"It's because _you're_ here, Tuck," he said, smiling himself. "We couldn't do what we originally planned because of you."

"Haha, you're not even funny," Tucker replied, forcing Danny to laugh.

"I totally am."

"You're a dick."

"I love you too, Tuck."

This ended with Tucker laying a (rather hard) punch on Danny's arm. Danny just laughed, weary and delirious from the rigorous testing and physical exertion he'd been forcing on himself for the last several hours.

"But seriously, where is she?" Tucker asked. Danny shrugged.

"Exactly what I said. She had 'stuff to do'."

"Maybe it had something to do with that hat," Tucker said. Danny glanced at him. "You know the one. That black one with the skull on the side?"

"The one she randomly wears for no apparent reason?"

"Yeah, that one," Tucker said, pointing at his friend. "I always wondered why she randomly wore that."

"She likes it, I guess," Danny replied. "She wears it for a couple days once every few weeks."

Tucker let his legs drop to the floor and slid off the table, turning to face his friend.

"Why don't we go and find out?" he said. Danny raised his eyebrows.

"Why? Why does it matter?"

"_Because_, what if, I dunno, it's something interesting?" Tucker said. "What if she has her own ghost-fighting life on the side?"

"Tuck, that's insane." Danny said, sliding off the table after his friend. But now that Tucker had mentioned it, he was genuinely curious.

"C'mon," Tucker said, egging him on. "Besides, maybe you can get to what you planned for tonight," he added, winking. Danny flushed and punched his friend in the back.

The pair took off for Sam's large house, walking in the warm night air. It was early September of their senior year, and the people of Amity Park were just wandering around in packs at night. They thought they'd enjoy a nice brisk walk as opposed to flying.

As they approached Sam's house, they noticed the lights on the first floor, and then Sam's bedroom up on the third floor with the light on. Her personal bathroom light was on as well.

"C'mon," Danny said, beckoning his friend over. Linking arms with Tucker, Danny turned them intangible and flew them up to Sam's bedroom window, phasing them through. They landed in her violet-and-black adorned bedroom, right next to her four-poster. A lamp was on, and they noticed her school clothes lying in a neatly laundered pile on her bed.

Still intangible, they walked forwards to her bathroom door, which was ajar. They could hear Sam bustling around inside with a tap running.

"What on earth is she doing in there?" Danny whispered. Tucker shrugged.

The two friends backed up and surveyed their female friend's room. It was exactly the same as it always was, save for the opposite wall that was covered in photos of the three over the years.

Suddenly, the bathroom door swung open, and freshly showered Sam walked out, wearing a light grey tank top and black shorts. She had a towel wrapped around her hair and was grabbing something from her dresser. It appeared to be a small black box.

She stood in front of her large dresser mirror, hand on the box, and looked at herself for awhile. The two boys moved closer and noticed she had a photo of the three of them from that summer stuck into one side of the mirror, and a photo booth strip that she and Danny had taken last year at a carnival on the other side. Danny grinned despite himself.

But it was the next moment that shocked both Danny and Tucker.

Sam took the black towel from her hair and let her wet hair hang limply just above her shoulders, raven colored and straight.

That is, except for her roots. Danny had to step on Tucker's toes to stop him from gasping out loud.

There, coming out of her scalp, were strawberry-blonde roots. The roots were a little over a half-inch long, but the contrast to the black was startling. Sam ran her hand through her wet hair, frowning. She picked up the box and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

With that, Tucker and Danny quickly phased out of the room to the street below, and when they became tangible again, they just stared at each other.

"Did you—"

"Nope."

"How could we have—"

"I guess it makes sense—"

They both stopped talking.

"No way," Tucker muttered. "I mean, I guess it makes sense, but… I dunno," he said. "I guess with a blonde dad and a red-headed mom…"

"It never occurred to me before," Danny said. "I mean, she's had black hair for as long as I've known her."

"Me, too."

"I don't remember her having light colored hair in elementary school."

"But we don't remember really _anything_ about elementary school," Tucker replied. "Can you imagine a strawberry-blonde Sam?"

"I think it'd be really cute," Danny said softly, blushing. "It'd fit in with her complexion more."

"Whatever," Tucker said, shrugging. "Now all we have to do is raid her house for baby pictures and we'll have discovered all the secrets to Samantha Manson. Well," Tucker added as an afterthought, "not _all_ the secrets. I mean, _I_ still don't know how she is—"

His sentence ended with a shoe flying into his face.

* * *

_This started out as a random description of Danny using his powers. But I cut that down when I got this idea. I, like many, am a subscriber to the theory that Sam's hair is dyed. It's just a fun idea. Plus, I love the idea of her being a natural strawberry-blonde, because it's just so unlike her personality. I imagine her hair being strawberry-blonde and maybe slightly wavy. Hmm. Anyway, I have to post a couple more installments of _**Almost Lovers** _and after that I swear I'll get to more of _**Empyreal.** _The _**Almost Lovers**_ series was a plot bunny I just had to get out! Plus, I find that there aren't a lot of stories in these collections that involve his powers. And his powers are so kickass!  
_


	35. Almost Lovers: 5

**Almost Lovers (Five)  
**

* * *

Sam sat staring straight ahead, gulping slightly and kicking the snow lightly. When Danny had called her that Saturday morning, he sounded sad and torn, and Sam wanted to know why. She was sitting on their park bench, the one that faced through a natural part in the trees where the sun could be seen while it set. It was a place she knew all too well, a place she had frequented with Danny often. It was _their place._ And Danny had asked to meet her here to talk about something. 

She wondered what it could be. He sounded just so sad on the phone… what if something happened? What if something happened to someone in his family? No, surely, he would have said that right on the phone. What if something happened to his powers? Would that be something saved for the bench?

Her thoughts were racing as she sat and wondered. Eventually she heard the shuffling of snow, and she saw Danny making his way through the new snow, looking tired and worn. She smiled as he sat down, but he didn't smile back. Her smile faded and she furrowed her brow, concern filling her face. He looked as if he hadn't slept all night.

She was worried. For the past few months, certain rogue ghosts had been ganging up on Danny, and she was scared that it would be a matter of time before they captured him and he vanished forever. What if he had a run in with them? What if his days were numbered?

"Danny?" she said apprehensively when he didn't say anything. "What's going on? What's the matter?" Danny just looked at her, and then turned in his seat so he was facing her. Sam turned as well, placing a hand on his cheek. His cheeks felt slightly damp, and a bit wrinkly; he had been crying a lot.

"Sam…" he said feebly, clearing his throat and starting again. "Sam," he said, looking into her eyes, "I… have to talk to you about something."

"About what?" she asked, scooting closer to him. She took his hands in hers. "What's wrong?"

"Sam, I…" he started, not knowing how to finish. He looked away, and then looked at her again, his face focused.

"Sam, I want you to punch me."

"What?" Sam cried, taken aback by the request. "Punch you?"

"Yes," Danny said, slipping out of her hands and spreading his arms wide. "Punch me. Hurt me. Do _something_ to me, please."

"But—"

"Just do it!" Danny closed his eyes and turned his head, arms still spread. He wasn't sure what to expect; normally Sam only followed his instructions that made sense, but sometimes…

Suddenly, he felt her hands on his neck and her lips against his, and for a second he just wanted to fall into the kiss and let things be. For a moment, he couldn't even believe that he wasn't in love with this girl any longer; his heart erupted and he wanted to just hug her, envelope her, love her. How could he imagine anyone better?

But… he had done something wrong, and he deserved to be punished. And as he kissed her, he realized that there was something different about this kiss. And it wasn't Sam that was making it different. It was something that was in Valerie's that wasn't here. In hers, there had been a certain spark, a certain passion that had flooded his senses when he kissed Valerie, something he had never experienced with Sam. Maybe, he thought, those first few times he had kissed Sam, when she left him breathless, it had happened, but he had been taken aback by it.

Danny pushed Sam away, and Sam frowned, folding her hands in her lap.

"I can't," he muttered. "Please, Sam, I… I just want you to hurt me as much as I hurt you."

"What? But when have you hurt me?" she asked. Danny just turned back forwards and placed his feet on the ground, staring at his feet. At first, Sam had no idea what he was _talking_ about. Hurt her? Hell, he had done just the opposite; he made her feel like she was the most valuable thing on earth. But a creeping, horrible sensation snuck into the back of her mind. Something that she had been subconsciously wondering for weeks, especially when Danny sometimes wasn't home late at night when she would call his cellphone after waking up in the middle of the night. She knew he did late night ghost patrols, but… she had that feeling.

His silence, his tears, and the defeated look on his face confirmed her worst fears. Without uttering a word, she knew exactly what had happened.

Her face fell and her mouth dropped open; her hands immediately covered it, and she couldn't stop the tears from falling down her cheeks. She shook her head slowly, whispering "No" over and over again. Danny put his face in his hands, leaning on his knees.

"No, Danny… you, you can't have—"

"I did," he whispered. "I did." Sam moved back on the bench, away from him. She clutched the ring on her left ring finger, shaking so hard from shock and sadness she was sure she was shaking the entire bench.

"But—why— I don't understand," Sam said in a soft voice. Danny couldn't bear to hear her. If only she were screaming, it would have been better. But hearing the sadness and disappointment in her voice… it broke his heart.

"I… I love you, Sam," he said. looking back up at her. He expected her to be angry, but all he saw was sadness. He was looking at the face of the strongest person he knew, and her face was completely broken down and heartbroken.

"I'm so sorry." Sam shook her head, closing her eyes and wiping away her tears. When she opened them again, he had vanished.

A little shocked at his sudden disappearance, she reached out across the bench to see if he was just invisible. But there was no one there. He was gone.

* * *

_This is a lot of fun to write. Anyway, there's one more installment after this, then there won't be any more for awhile. School is starting to come full-swing, and I really want to finish the next chapter of Empyreal at some point. And now I have essays to write for various classes and scholarships, soooooo..._


	36. Almost Lovers: 6

_I apologize in advance for the slapdash ending. I'm planning on re-writing it at a later date. But for now, this is the last installment of the saga.  
_

* * *

**Almost Lovers (Six)  
**

* * *

She hadn't even expected it. She was just leaning alone against a railing on her balcony, enjoying the crisp winter air and dying sun in the distance. Her thoughts had been racing all day, and she hadn't even started her pile of weekend homework because of it. She still didn't know what she was going to do, especially when she went to school. By now, something had happened between everyone's favorite couple, because that's just how Danny was. He owned up to his mistakes immediately, because it was only fair, right? 

But she still hadn't expected it. She suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around her midriff, although she couldn't see them. She felt someone press up against her back and her legs, and a face nuzzling into her hair. She watched as two familiar black-and-white arms appeared around her waist, with a pair of legs in white boots to match, along with a pair of shoulders, chest, a waist donning a utility belt, and of course, a head topped with brilliant white hair.

Without thinking, Valerie leaned back against him and closed her eyes, placing her own hands on top of his. For some reason, even though she was practically drowning in guilt, his embrace made her feelings melt away. And for him, it was the same way. He tightened his grip on her and made his way through her dark hair, nuzzling the back of her neck.

Valerie turned around in his arms, so she was pressed right up against him, and cupped his face in her hands. She pulled him towards her and laid her lips on his, just like the first time. All her thoughts, fears, and apprehensions just disappeared, and all that mattered was the person in front of her, holding her waist like she would break, and kissing her back with as much force and passion as she was letting on.

When they pulled apart, she draped her arms on his shoulders, and he nuzzled her nose with his, causing her to smile.

"I'm falling in love with you," he whispered, "and I don't know why."

"Neither do I," she whispered back.

"I thought you hated me."

"I did. For awhile."

"But now?" he asked.

"Not anymore," she whispered, but it died in her throat as she kissed him again. She had no idea what was going to happen to either of them; there was no way they could start a relationship. They were trapped in the middle of a huge mess that was nearly impossible to clean up. But that was okay, because at that moment all she had was him, and that was all she wanted.

She almost wanted to cry when he pulled away from her, letting her waist drop. It took all of her self control not to jump him as he smiled at her from across the balcony.

"I'll be back," he said softly. And he vanished into the night, just as the sun set. Valerie sighed and wrapped her arms around herself, sliding down onto the concrete.

That was the last time she ever saw him.

The next morning, Sam had shown up on the Fenton's doorstep, unsure of what she was going to do or why she was there, only to find a frantic Fenton family. Apparently, Danny hadn't shown himself since yesterday morning when he set out to meet her.

"Do you have any idea where he could be, Sam?" Maddie had asked, hoping her son's girlfriend would know. Sam sadly shook her head, shrugging.

"I haven't seen him since yesterday morning." She replied. Her thoughts drifted to the morning before, when she learned that the one person she loved above all others had cheated on her. It wasn't a good day.

Part of her was glad that he had vanished; maybe then her pain would, too… but then her heart began to ache. She didn't want him to be gone. She just wanted him to be hers again.

Danny wasn't seen for the rest of the week. Sam held onto her ring, still wearing it, even after the news of Danny cheating spilled out into the school. She didn't find out just who he cheated with, but she didn't want to know.

Ghosts who regularly came through from the Ghost Zone hadn't seen him. People outside the Ghost Zone hadn't seen him. Sam and Tucker even went _into_ the Zone and interrogated ghosts as to where he could be. But no one had seen him.

Valerie didn't know, either. She hadn't seen him since their last embrace on the balcony.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and finally, nearly four months after he disappeared, just as the snow was beginning to melt, he was declared dead.

Sam continued to keep the ring, even long after she herself had gotten married. Her husband never asked about it, or even got jealous of it; he knew he was just the second man in her life, and that Danny Fenton would always be the first.

Valerie had been left in a strange, suspended state, not really knowing if she loved him or not. In the end, she decided that it was an infatuation, not even remembering how much passion she had shared with him in such a short amount of time.

It wasn't for years and years after he vanished, long after both Sam and Valerie themselves had passed on, and their children were getting on in their years, that what happened to Danny Phantom was discovered. After emotionally cheating on his girlfriend, he confronted her about it, then went over for one last embrace with his other girl, and then, on a rash decision, bounded into the Ghost Zone to find the gang of ghosts who had been giving him trouble lately. From there the story blurs; no one is sure if he was captured or not, all they know is he went into their stronghold and never came out.

But they never realized that a secret defender was always watching them, sitting atop lamp posts and building roofs, watching and waiting, having decided long ago that no matter who he loved, they would be hurt as long as he was _Danny Phantom_.

* * *

_For some reason, I couldn't imagine it ending without Danny vanishing somehow, but I didn't want it to seem horribly cliché__. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it before it started to suck, and yes, this means I'll actually work on other things!_


	37. Angeldusting

**Angeldusting  
_(Excerpt from "Empyreal")_  
**

* * *

Sam smiled, her cheeks going red again. She looked up at me, her eyes locking on mine. The more she looked into them, the more I felt that she could see right through me, down into my very heart and soul, and could tell who I really was. My breath caught in my throat. 

The dying sun left orange, red and pink streaks in the sky, and Sam's entire body had an orangy glow as she pulled one leg up onto the bench.

"Thank you… for helping me," she said after a time in a soft voice. I could barely hear her over the intense beating of my own heart. She leaned on her hand and looked up at me again. "I… I thought I was going to die, honestly. That ghost hurt me really badly. But… right before I passed out… I saw this glowing person…" I bit my lower lip, dread settling in again. She was describing my true form, from the night I saved her. What if she noticed the resemblance?

She was right in front of me, her face bare inches from mine, our noses almost touching. The air became tenser, and even her arm slightly brushing my leg sent shivers throughout my body. _What the hell was happening to me?_

I could feel my face heat up. I was probably blushing as badly as she was at the moment. She just looked straight into my eyes, and I saw something in her eyes that I had never seen before…

"I think… I think it was an _angel_, Danny…"

Suddenly, without warning, her lips were against mine. At first, I had _no_ idea what was going on. I knew that kissing was a sign of affection, but I had never kissed anyone, nor ever needed to. But as soon as she did it, my entire body suddenly _erupted._ All I wanted to do was wrap my arms around her, pull her in close and never stop kissing her. I closed my eyes and did just that, her hands on my chest. I didn't want to stop. She tasted sweet and her lips were so inviting… her body was warm and her hands slid up my chest to my neck.

She pulled away from me briefly, opening her eyes and looking into mine again. She emitted a small giggle and moved away from me, pulling her hands down from my neck. As she did, I grabbed her hands in mine, and she looked back at me.

"I-I've never kissed anyone before," she said softly. I smiled. Her touch was leaving me feeling lighter than I had ever in my entire life. Even though I was a literal spirit, I had never felt this good or warm in, well, ever.

"Neither have I," I whispered, and with that I pulled her into another one. Each one was better than the one before it. I could feel her lips curl into a smile as we kissed. I could also feel the nick in her lip, where a scar ran down her face to her chin.

My hands traveled from her back to her neck, and as I pulled away from her again, my hands were cupping her face. I ran my thumb over her scar, feeling it for the first time. A scar that, if I hadn't gotten there in time… Could have done more damage.

"An angel saved me that night," Sam said, smiling at me, her eyes filled with delight. "I know he did. He had white hair and these eyes… they were so bright, and he had this glow about him—Oh, Danny, I want to meet him again," she said, laying her head on my chest. I wrapped my arms around her again, leaning my face in her hair and closing my eyes.

"Do you think I'll ever see him again?" she asked, reaching up around my neck and holding on.

"Maybe," I said, smiling into her hair. "I think you will."

* * *

_This was originally a scene from _**Empyreal** _, but I decided against using it. I was originally going to have Phantom and Sam become romantically involved, but I decided it would be better for them to have more of a longing relationship as opposed to an actual one. Yeah. But I had too much fun writing this blurb to _not_ use it _somewhere_. And if you haven't read Empyreal, then, well, this won't really make sense, will it?_

* * *


	38. Let the Sunshine In

**Let the Sunshine In  
**

* * *

"Ugh." 

The door slammed, the bed creaked, and a loud _thump_ sounded throughout the empty house. Sitting on the edge of his bed, with his head in his hands, he tried to gain a moment's rest. He felt as if he hadn't slept in a week and a half. He knew very well he hadn't. He couldn't go on like this for much longer without it affecting his ghost fighting. There was only so long you could go on ectoplasmic energy.

Standing up, he brushed the dust off his mirror. He glanced at his hallowed reflection and inspected it, looking at his features. The way he resembled both his parents in one person. Human genetics were incredible in his mind.

"Damn," he muttered. He opened a drawer and felt around in its empty wooden basin, wondering if there was anything left. He closed it when he realized it had been emptied. Oddly enough, his furniture was still in the room. He sashayed over to this window and pulled back the curtains, disturbing the dust that had settled on the baby blue fabric of his youth.

As a cloud of dust wafted around him, sunlight poured into the room, surprising him so much that he stepped back a little bit. He was so out of it he forgot it was still light out. The setting sun cast rays of orange, pink, yellow and red across the sky's canvas, like delicate watercolors. He smiled a bit, glad for the light. He expected to feel the warmth of the sun on his skin, but wasn't surprised when he didn't. As his powers grew, his body temperature dropped. It was odd.

He struggled to remember just what had happened the past forty-eight hours. He remembered fighting, always fighting – the Revolution was growing stronger and larger by the day. He was battling ghosts that were far more powerful and far more motivated than himself, but he always came back to this place to remind him why he was still fighting in this war.

"I wish I had taken better care of this room," the boy muttered. There was dust absolutely_ everywhere._ Sighing, he trudged out of his bedroom, sunlight glittering in the hallway through the windows. All the doors were shut, and there was even a thin layer of dust on the floor. As he went down the stairs, he noticed that the carpet on the stairs had been ripped up. Along with the hall carpet.

And the kitchen had been emptied of furniture, floor tiles, and appliances.

And the family room had been emptied of all forms of life, including the full floor carpet.

And the sunlight continued to filter into the room, illuminating the dust particles he was kicking up into the air. The house almost breathed when it was empty of all life. He wondered just how much time had passed since they left. He didn't recall them taking all the furniture out. Did they move? Did something happen to them? He hoped not.

A wailing siren sounded in the distance. He glanced out the window, sunlight still creating patterns on the bare wooden floors. He looked outside, seeing the partially destroyed apartments right across the street. A warning siren. Ghosts were coming. The Revolution was coming. _Again._

Danny stretched his arms and looked around, wishing he wasn't constantly tired. And wondering why they had left his furniture in his room.

"Maybe a place for me to return to," he muttered, half-smiling, but burdened with the knowledge that he would spend the rest of forever in this house.

As he bounded outside into the war-zone, he wished, as he always did, that he would one day remember the day he finally died.

* * *

_I finished reading "Beowulf" today for my AP English class. It was a good story, and it slightly influenced the writing style. I love the style that Beowulf was written in. Or, at least, I love the style that Seamus Heaney translated Beowulf into. I also wanted to use the title "Let the Sunshine In" (from the song Aquarius from the movie Hair) since we're doing that song in band. It's such a jazzy song and everyone absolutely loves it, and it has such an upbeat, well, beat... so I thought it would be amusing to write something slightly depressing with that title. I dunno. It was random, I wrote it in fifteen minutes, I'm tired now. Buh bye.  
_


	39. Deus

**Deus  
**

* * *

He had long ago surpassed "ghost".

The definition of ghost is "the soul of a dead person, a disembodied spirit imagined, usually as a vague, shadowy or evanescent form, as wandering among or haunting living persons". He wasn't a shadow, or an evanescent form. He was not dead, never dead; he was half-dead, never quite fully dead.

I watched him grow stronger, with greater powers. Both of us did. It didn't matter what was happening to us, but what happened to him did matter. As the years bore on, he began to appear more and more like a classic superhero. He had all the traits of a superhero. He was, always, _my_ superhero…

It happened sometime in college. Sometime around the crossing from undergrad into graduate school. Right after he married me. I think it had been happening slowly the entire time, but I didn't notice the odd glow he seemed to have before that time. It wasn't a glow like a light, but more like an inner glow. His skin seemed brighter; his eyes warmer – even his fingers and toes seemed to glow.

I had been passing by a park bench near to our apartment when I found a dead baby bird lying on the pathway. In sadness and knelt down and picked it up with a kerchief; I was still the animal-lover that I had been in the past. My heart went out to this little creature. It was the middle of January, and recently the temperature had been falling into the negatives at night. This little baby just didn't have what it took to survive alone in these types of conditions. I could tell he had been dead for a couple of days now.

He came out of nowhere, and came up behind me, wrapping his arms around me. Even though it was freezing cold out, he still emanated with heat. He cupped my hands in his, and laid his chin on my shoulder. I felt his lips at the base of my neck, and I almost dropped the little bird. But he returned concentration to the little animal, and closed his eyes again, his hands heating up.

His hands glowed, and the bird glowed. But this wasn't the same ghostly energy I had remembered. It was warmer, softer.

He forced me to close my hands over the tiny little animal, and I did so. I opened my hands again and, in my palm, was a little baby bird with all his feathers, puffing up his wings and chirping angrily at being knocked out of its nest.

My jaw dropped open, and I fell to my knees from my crouching position. The bird nibbled my gloved hands, and I dropped him on the ground, where he pointedly waddled away to what appeared to be a nest in a bush.

He remained behind me, his arms wrapped around my stomach, his face in my back, and I realized that he wasn't wearing a jacket. And I knew for a fact it was in the teens, maybe even single digits outside. His bare arms were warm and enticing, not cold at all.

I know that he had surpassed a simple ghost in our teen years. Even the most powerful of specters couldn't hold a candle to his power. He could have single handedly taken over the entire Ghost Zone. He had _that_ much power. But he didn't.

He didn't.

And I will always wonder, from that day all those years ago, just when it was that this child, this kind superhero beside me… became a god.

* * *

_All I can say is... ::shrug::. I honestly have no idea where this came from. All I know is it spawned from listening to "Hey Jude" from the "Across the Universe" soundtrack over and over again._


	40. The Ghost in the Closet

**The Ghost in the Closet  
**

* * *

It was _mocking_ him. 

All day, Mr. Lancer had been watching a certain closet at the end of the main hallway. It was always closed, and Lancer never saw anyone enter or leave it. Ever since he walked in that morning it had been giving him a weird feeling, almost like someone was in there. He even got bizarre looks from his students all morning as he stood in front of it, staring at it.

Of course, since it was at the end of the now senior hall, he had been getting more quips and odd looks than he normally would have. Even Fenton tapped him on the shoulder and said "Er, Mr. Lancer? Are you going to first period or not?"

It was mocking him! He knew it. Something – or someone – on the other side of that door was silently watching him. All day, as he passed between classrooms, he narrowed his eyes at the door, shaking his head slowly.

He knew that the doorway had once led to a bomb shelter in the late 50s. Why a bomb shelter was built in the late 50s was a mystery to him, but he wasn't there, now was he? Now he knew it was a utility closet of some sort. Or a book closet. Or… something.

Finally, after lunch, right before his next period, he stormed up to the doorway and stood in front of it, arms crossed.

As if silently threatening whatever was inside, he raised his eyebrow, than boldly opened the door and took a step inside. Light from the hallway poured over mops, brooms, and beyond that, shelves and shelves of ancient, dust-lined history books. The one light bulb hanging from the ceiling was covered in a thick layer of grime and looked as if it hadn't been used in years. He pushed on the door a little bit, and noticed it wouldn't move. Something was behind it!

But, as he was about to pull on the door, he saw a mop handle poking out from behind it. Ah. So a mobile mop bucket was stationed back there. And then he noticed a pile of old cardboard boxes right next to the door. And, at the very back, right next to a shelf, was the bolted metal door with the international fallout shelter symbol fading off of it.

Slowly Lancer pulled the door shut, narrowing his eyes as he heard it click. There was something in there. He _knew_ it.

"Maybe I'll get Fenton to give it a look," he muttered to himself as he walked (now late) to his class. "Yeah, that's it. I'll hold him after class."

But as he entered the class, he noticed that Fenton was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

"Is he gone?" 

Danny pushed his ear to the door and listened. He heard Lancer swing his classroom door shut as class resumed. He pulled away from the door, leaving a little damp mark from where he leaned against the old wood. He lay back against the stone wall next to the door, panting.

"Oh, my God," he whispered, putting a hand on his forehead. "That was _so_ close."

"I know," Sam agreed, pulling her sweater on over her head. "Ooh, I'm all sweaty, this is so uncomfortable."

"Speak for yourself," Danny muttered, pulling his dress shirt back on. Tucker was going to _murder_ him for this. Sam smiled and leaned over him, kissing his neck gently. She pulled away and ran her hands down his bare chest, but then pulled away quickly and squealed.

"Ew!"

"SHHH!"

"Sorry, but you're all sweaty," Sam said, sticking out her tongue and wiping her hands on her jeans. "Is that from _this_ or Lancer scaring you have to death?"

"Both, but I'd say more Lancer. He terrifies me."

"I think he's losing his mind."

"I think _you're_ insane."

"_I'm_ insane? This was _your_ idea!"

"I know," Danny said, smirking. He pulled Sam closer to him and kissed her lips, only to be pushed away.

"Enough of that," she whispered, smiling at him. "I've already missed two classes and – don't you have a meeting _right now?_"

"Yeah," Danny replied grimly, pulling his suit jacket on and buttoning it up. "Why else would I be wearing this? But, now that Lancer's all suspicious of this place, we can't come back here."

"Wellllllll…" Sam said, her eyes glittering, "we could always tell him that a ghost _does _live here, right?"

Danny raised his eyebrows and nodded.

"I'll get on that."

* * *

_Fun fact: there is a bomb shelter underneath my school. You get automatic suspension for being caught down there. Second fun fact: the door isn't in a closet. It's in a back stairwell that only 11 people in the entire building ever and will ever use. Anyway, this idea spawned partly from a shirt fic that I think A. Larosa wrote (about Lancer catching Danny and Sam making out in a closet) and partly from when Sam mentioned in PP that they will have like, next to no time anymore. Woop de doop._


	41. Ghost Story

**Ghost Story  
**

* * *

"Okay, so, is everything _in_ there?" 

"Yeah, yeah, shut up, it's all there, moron."

"When do we go on?"

"After these asshats. My _God_ they're taking _forever._"

"Hey, Em, are ya vocal chords up to the challenge tonight?"

The circle broke as they all turned to the teenaged girl standing against the brick back well, a cigarette in her hand. She nodded, twisting her blonde hair around a finger on her free hand.

"We've been planning this for months, Blast. I'm no jackass."

"Well, _sorry_," he replied, gaining a chuckle from the other band members. The blonde girl stood and watched her band talk to each other in a circle behind the building. The streetlights around them were their only illumination, since the light in the back had long since gone out. She leaned up against the door and listened to the band going on before them, tapping her foot gently. She was torn away from the door when she heard a yell from one of her band members.

"OW! What the _fuck_, Johnson, _stop doing that!_ I'm not a drumhead!"

She rolled her eyes. The sooner they could go onstage and perform the better. She was growing tired of the incessant bickering and complaining of the band she had formulated. They were good, she realized, but annoying as _hell._ And Johnson couldn't stop drumming on people. _That_ was annoying.

She was the only girl, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was the intelligence level of her band. The club they were playing at was shifty enough, and _they_ had booked it, naturally. It was filled past the bursting point and she had the creepy feeling that this crowd didn't like to obey many laws. Then again, neither did she.

But that was beside the point.

She pulled a pocket watch from the pocket of her jeans and looked at the time. 9:47. They were to go on at 9:50. Time was almost there. She gave the old watch a good look over. It was one of the only things she still had from her family. Before she completely changed her name. The letters "AM" were inscribed on the back – her grandfather's name. Adam. Adam McClain. The man who had given this to her.

She pocketed it again.

As soon as she did, a chilly breeze swept over at her, surrounding her. She shivered, putting her cigarette out on the ground. She rubbed her bare pale arms and glanced around, wondering if she brought a jacket. The breeze was so foreboding that it started to creep her out a bit as well. A mysterious sense of dread began to fill her body. She shivered again, this time trying to push thoughts of fear down into the crevices of her brain. This was _not_ the time for fear.

"C'mon!" she called, ushering her fellow bandmates into the back door. "Let's get this overwith."

She held the door open for them and was about to follow afterwards, then decided to leave the pocket watch in the back of their van. As she did, she turned around and walked back in, pulling her long blonde hair into a ponytail. She closed the door behind her and locked it for some reason unknown to her.

And that was the last night of one 18-year-old Amber McClain, cause of death: gunshot to the head.

* * *

_I enjoy coming up with the varous ways that Danny's enemies have died. One of my faves is Ember, and forever and a half ago I drew a picture of what I thought was a possible death for her. I forgot about it until I was looking through my gallery for a different picture, haha. Anyway, um, here ya go. I may do more of these. I actually made up one for Spectra and Youngblood, too. Random, I know._


	42. A Haunting

**A Haunting  
**

* * *

Finally, there was quiet.

The girl sat down, glancing around nervously, the lights above her illuminating her body. Her bright red hair shined in the light and she squinted, using her hand to shield her face. She saw a little red pinprick in the darkness and saw a dark figure behind it. The camera was on.

"Alright, so, tell us what happened," the man (from before) said, his voice billowing out from the darkness. The camera man's glasses picked up the glint from the lights and she could see him clearly now. He nodded to her, and signaled the psychiatrist from beside him.

She cleared her throat.

"The whole thing?"

"From start to finish," the psychiatrist replied. "It'll be edited, I assure you, so feel free to say what you will."

The girl nodded, and cleared her throat again, sweat building at her brow.

"W-well, it started about a year ago. My family had always been interested in ghosts, and, well, everyone knows who I'm related to… but this was different."

"Different how?" the man asked. She shuddered.

"Just… different. This ghost… this spirit, it felt like, like it was always there. A constant presence. At first I just thought it was my brother being foolish, but he started feeling it, too. It freaked us both out. And when something paranormal freaks my brother out – you _know_ it's not good."

"What was it like?"

"It was… _disturbing,_ somewhat," she replied. "We knew our house was infested with something very human. We're used to monster-like ghosts, you see," she explained. "But this… this was something human. This was a spirit that was attached to the house in some way… or so we first thought."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, at first, we just thought that it was, y'know, attached to the house. A 'residual haunting' was how my brother and my parents first classified it…" she trailed off, sniffing loudly. She wiped her wet eyes with her bandaged hand, sighing and trying to hold back her tears.

"It's alright, just take your time."

"I'm r-really sorry," she said, breathing deeply. "It's…"

"Hard?"

"Yes."

"Please continue."

"Well, my family classified it as a residual haunting. Some spirit was attached to the house. So we did the usual; we researched the history of the house and the property. But we came up empty. The house had only been standing for about forty years, and before that it was just part of a farm. Nothing ever happened on the farm, either. No murders, no suicides, no accidental deaths, no children or anything like that every dying. It was a typical farm. It was owned by a family for a couple hundred years before the family got new jobs and sold the land to the town. It was built on thirty years after the family sold it. Nothing special."

"Why was that so unusual?"

"Because it meant that there was _nothing_ that this spirit was attached to physically. Nothing!" she cried, as if reliving a memory. She closed her eyes and willed herself to calm down.

"Take your time."

"Yes, I'm so sorry," she said softly. She cleared her throat again. "Anyway, my parents figured it must be attached to a person. Naturally, we assumed it was – was my brother," she said, avoiding his name. "But this spirit… it seemed to be attached to each and all of us differently. My brother claimed he heard voices while he was sleeping, and my mother began to feel constantly uncomfortable in her own house. She couldn't be in a room alone, after awhile, especially at night. My father was unaffected for a long time, but he started seeing faces everywhere. I remember the first time I was truly scared was when he freaked after seeing himself in a mirror. It was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life."

"Did you have any personal experiences with the spirit?"

"It… yes," she said, putting a hand to her chin. "It… I think it tried to communicate with me. Words would appear in places I hadn't written them. At first it was on school papers and books, but soon it started appearing on walls and desks and sometimes in the sky… Soon I thought I was crazy." She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. "We all thought we were going crazy. No one could believe that _my_ family couldn't handle a ghost."

"Was it indeed a ghost?"

"I think it started out that way. A lonely, lonely ghost," she explained, brushing her red hair behind her ears. "But before long it was… a devil. A demonic entity. A poltergeist, whatever you want to call it."

"I see."

"So, after a couple months, well… I-I guess everyone knows the story from there. I went to college, and… it stopped. I went away for a couple months and it stopped. I could read papers without expecting something mysterious and terrifying to appear. I wasn't paranoid. I was infected with the sickness that my family was inflicted was. It truly was a residual haunting in every way. But there was the day that… I went home…" she trailed off, closing her eyes. She emitted a soft sob and cleared her throat again, wiping her eyes.

"It's alright, it's alright… just tell the story. It'll help."

"I-I went home," she began, sparkling tears rolling down her face. "I-I talked t-to some people at h-home, in Amity P-P-Park, and they s-said that w-weird things were h-happening at my h-house. That n-no one had s-seen my family in weeks. T-they just s-seemed to h-have _vanished_ or—" she broke off, a hand over her eyes, shaking. She shook her head and looked up again, her face tear-stained, her breath short.

"T-the whole house was c-cold and destroyed; walls were b-broken and furniture was ripped a-apart, a-and there were all sorts of marks on the walls. L-like furniture had been t-thrown against the walls. B-but it was _s-strategic_ like someone had b-been trying to _get ou-out_ of the house via _furniture_. L-like they were… t-trapped."

"I know it's painful, but… what happened next?"

"I f-found them," she whispered, a hand over her mouth. "D-d-down stairs. The p-portal was completely d-destroyed. The r-room was a m-mess. And there they w-were. Just _l-lying_ there like—like—"

"It's alright, please relax."

She wanted to punch this man in the face. How _dare_ he force her to relive one of the most painful memories of her life? But she complied, and she sat up straight, her good hand resting on her injured hand.

"I-I think they t-tried to escape the h-house through the p-p-portal, but it didn't w-work. The demon had l-locked them i-i-inside. I read their n-notes. It became m-more violent when there were l-less people to f-f-feed off of."

"You found the ghost, didn't you?"

"Y-yes. After it had released all its a-anger and f-f-frustration on my f-family. I saw h-him."

"It was a him?"

"W-when he regained h-his humanity, y-yes."

"Do you know who it was?"

"Y-yes."

"And…?"

She took a breath.

"A f-friend. He had p-passed away accidentally earlier in the y-year."

"Did you ever find out why he became so demonic on your family?"

"He was an-angry. In a w-way, it was my family's f-fault that he died."

"Oh? What happened?"

"H-he was a good friend of m-my brother. T-they were l-like b-brothers. An-and he w-was just in the wrong pl-place at the wr-wrong time."

"And yet, he blamed your family?"

"Y-yes."

"Did he regret his actions?"

"I d-don't know."

"Can you tell us his name, please?"

"I-I…" she trailed off, closing her eyes once more. It was hard. She felt like thousands of knives were stabbing and ripping her heart at once. She placed a hand over it and shook her head slowly.

"We understand if you can't. It's still hard for you, isn't it?"

"Y-yes. It's h-hard to lose o-one's family…"

"And to have seen the bodies in such a st—"

"P-please!" she said in a weak voice. The psychiatrist nodded and shifted positions.

"Of course. So, all the hauntings, and the terrifying ordeals you and your family went through were because of a lingering grudge?"

"Yes."

"Is there any other part of this story?"

"Just… just what the papers t-told," she said, calming down again. "I haven't been back to college since. People think I'm too crazy."

"Now, they don't think you're crazy, dear."

"They do. Because of what I have to live with now."

"The guilt?"

"Not quite, I mean… well… you know."

"_Oh_. The 'apparitions'."

"They're not FAKE!" the girl cried, standing up. The camera man reeled back in surprise.

"Please, Jasmine, relax," the psychiatrist pleaded. Jazz, fists clenched, settled back down in her seat, breathing rapidly.

"Tell us about what you see."

"I see them all," Jazz said in a soft voice. "My parents. My brother. My brother's friend. Around me all the time. Calling to me and pleading with me, but I… I can't hear what they're saying. I know I could have saved them all. That's what they're telling me. They're telling me how to save them."

"Are you a religious person?"

"Not particularly."

"Do you think they want you to save them from something beyond that which you can see?"

"I… I don't know."

"Is there anything else to this story?"

"I… no. No there isn't." Jazz sat back, closing her eyes. The camera flicked off.

"You did very well, Jasmine. Very well."

"Can I please go now?"

"If by go you mean wait for the Ride, then you may." Like a bolt of lightening, Jazz buzzed out of the room ASAP and ran into a waiting room type area. She pulled her sweatshirt closer to herself, eyes closed. She didn't even see the people shying away from her as she went out the door, standing in the light snow that had fallen.

She never told the _detail _to anyone. She wasn't being entirely truthful when she spoke of finding her family. She never told the real, gruesome version. 

How one of them hadn't died yet.

The psychiatrist sighed at the camera man.

"Poor, poor girl," he said. "Her mental state is so poor nowadays. She sees things that aren't there, you see."

"That story about the ghost… did that actually happen?" the camera man asked. The psychiatrist nodded.

"Unfortunately, yes. Her family were the victims of a particularly violent haunting."

"Ooh."

Outside, Jazz watched them. She had long ago left the habit of clutching her hands over her eyes to block out their voices. She had never told that dreadful man about the voices.

They weren't mute. They spoke very loudly and very clearly. She could see their faces as well. All of them. Not just her family. Many others. Their last moments, played out before her very eyes. Screams of terror. Pleads. Begging. She knew she would hear them, constantly, blocking out all other sounds.

"_We have to get out of here, there must be a way out—"_

"_Look out, behind you, can't you see it!!—"_

"_No! You can't do that!"_

"_I saw it, I saw it, I swear to God it was there—"_

"_FIRE!"_

"_I beg of you, please, please, save her_

"_Please, please, please, Jazz… don't let me die."  
_

* * *

_I hate the ending. But I had no idea how to end it, so I just left it. Yes, this is inspired by the show _**A Haunting** _on Discovery Channel. I love that show. I absolutely love it. To pieces. I wanted to do a Danny Phantom styled one, but it turned into something a lot creepier. This isn't fantastic but I creeped myself out while writing it, so I guess that means I did an okay job. I also wanted to feature someone as a ghost who almost never is featured as one; Tucker. Hopefully that was implied enough! Although I can't imagine Tucker being a very violent ghost, let's just say the Fenton's really messed up once. Btw, the quotes at the end are supposed to be from all the people she can see, the last one being the 'part she didn't tell the psychiatrist'. Yeah. I dunno. I'll shut up now._

_ Happy early Hallowe'en.  
_


	43. Apologize to No one

**Apologize to No one  
(from _Empyreal_)  
**

* * *

Hers was the only room in the entire ward that was shut. Most other rooms had the doors ajar, even open, the patients talking to family and friends, or beckoning nurses to come and keep them company. But not _her_ room. The door was shut tight, a clipboard hanging from the door.

The girl was a nurse in training who came to the room. She sighed, peering at the clipboard on the door. She did _not_ want to deal with this woman. The woman was twenty-six years old, and just recently graduated from grad school with a Masters degree. She was married. She had a little daughter and a husband. They had just moved into a house.

But it wasn't all this information that worried her. This was the useless stuff that was meant to help keep her file organized. It was actually going in there and trying to be useful without dragging the poor woman down any more than she had been.

Slowly, the nurse opened the door and stepped across the threshold, closing it behind her. The woman was in the room alone. She was lying down, asleep. A half-full glass of water rested on the counter beside her.

Cautiously, the nurse walked over to the bed and did the regular check of vital signs, medications, and all the rest. She then moved beside the woman's head and leaned over her, dabbing her face with a cloth. She had been crying.

Apparently, this woman had been crying all day. And she had been refusing to eat. And no one could reason with her. The nurse checked all vital signs again, just to make sure. But she was relatively fine, for now.

The thing was, the nurse wasn't sure what was wrong with the woman. All that was listed on her file was "severe depression". But she had no history of it, nor a history of it in her family. And, she had noticed, on her thin wrist, the woman sported the pink paper bracelet that signified she had been in the maternity ward.

As the nurse left, she ran into a young doctor who was escorting a rather large man and a really tiny girl down the hall.

"Have you checked on the woman in room 14B?" the doctor asked hastily. The nurse nodded, growing nervous.

"Y-yes, I just—"

"Okay, good, take this, and bring it to the morgue, please," he said, thrusting a folder into her hands. He opened the door of the room she was just in and ushered the large man and the little girl (who looked just like the woman) into the room. The nurse, shaken, walked down the stairs to the morgue, wondering what the file was for. Clearly, this young family had lost someone, but just who they lost she wasn't sure.

As she walked down the dark hallway to the morgue, she stopped briefly to look at the file. It was for a Daniel Fenton. But the file was sealed; she couldn't open it without facing serious legal action.

Defeated, the nurse continued on and knocked on the morgue door. Another doctor appeared, ushering her into the room.

"Thanks," he said, taking the file. The nurse glanced around the room, looking at all the carts and beds, and shivering since the room was nearly refrigerated. The doctor wandered over to one of the many shelves of bodies within refrigerators.

The nurse hated this place. She'd only been in there once and never wanted to be in there again. She was training for the maternity ward; why was she even _there?_

"You're wondering why you're here, aren't you?" the doctor said suddenly. The nurse nodded. The doctor sighed.

"You deal with maternity, right?" he asked. He waved her over and she quickly ran across the room, trying not to look at her surroundings. He showed her the file, and then pointed to one refrigerator that looked like a drawer.

"This is why you're here. See this file? This Daniel Fenton?" he asked, gesturing to the paper. The nurse nodded.

"I'm assuming this was someone that the family of the crying woman lost?" the nurse asked. The doctor rolled his eyes and pointed to the drawer. It was very small. Child sized, maybe smaller.

"This is something you're going to have to deal with," the doctor said.

"What?"

"This child," he pointed to the file, "is dead."

"I can see that."

"But what you don't see," he said, opening the file. "Is this."

She was looking at a bizarre death certificate. It had both his birthday and deathday listed on there. They… they were the same day.

"He died on his birthday," the nurse said. "How tragic."

"This is even _more_ tragic," the doctor said, and pointed to the date and time. He was born on April fourteenth. That was two days ago. He died on April fourteenth. That was two days ago. He was born at 2:33 a.m.

_He died at 2:33 a.m._

"He… oh my God," the nurse whispered. The doctor nodded.

"Get used to this," the doctor said, closing the file. "It's a hard life, being a doctor. I can see the appeal of being in the maternity ward; never having to deal with death. But death happens everywhere," the doctor said while the nurse tried not to tear up at the thought of the stillborn baby. "It's just unfortunate that it had to happen here."

* * *

_Wrote this while I was bored. Goes with _**Empyreal.**


	44. All I Want Is You

_Note: the song "All I Want is You" is copyrighted to Barry Louis Polisar._**  
**

* * *

** All I Want Is You  
**

* * *

He sighed as he stared down at his feet, stopping. He frowned and stared at them, as if glaring at them could stop their beat. He found himself walking in step to the song he'd heard that morning on the radio. All throughout the day he couldn't shake that damn song. It was playing over and over in his head, worming into the crevices in between his brain folds. Ugh.

It was today. Today of all days. Today was a really special day, and he was brain dead with ideas. On every other occasion he could come up with something clever and meaningful. But not today. Of all days. All he had was this annoying song and a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Goddamn," he muttered. The sun warmed his back and he examined his shadow, turning around and waving his arms. His shadow waved back.

He pulled his light jacket tighter around his shoulders. This was the part he hated about being half-ghost. He was always cold, even on unusually sunny, warm days.

He wandered into his house, plopping down onto the couch in his living room. The words drifted around in his mind's eye, taunting them with their perfectness. For months he'd been trying to find the perfect words to describe what she meant to him. He didn't want to use something cliché or lame, but this song… it explained everything that she was to him without using any words that were clichéd or oversaturated. It was perfect.

Too bad the notion of using song lyrics was cliché in itself, right? And she had been sick the last couple of days. This would just bring her more down.

He laid back in frustration on the couch, tapping his hands to the beat on his chest and humming the song. It was a really cheery song anyway. Way too cheery for her.

"Hmm, hmmm hmmm… All I want is you, will you be my bride?... Take me by the hand and stand by my side. All I want is you, will you stay with me? Hold me in your arms and sway me like the sea… Damn." He half-grinned and sighed. It was such a simple song, but it sent such a beautiful message. It was against everything she was, but…

"Aww, crap, I hafta do it," he said, defeated. He fell over onto the floor and dashed up to his room. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, but first, he needed someone who would have technology that was out-dated to help him. Five seconds later he was on his cell, kneeling on the floor, fiddling with the plugs in the back of his computer.

"Yeah, Tuck? Yeah… do you still have that cassette recorder? And the computer jack? Yeah… I wanna make something."

* * *

When she got home from the doctor she found a package on her bed. Confused, she opened it carefully to find a small wrapped package nestled amongst packing peanuts. It was wrapped in black, shiny paper. Seeing the familiar paper, she grinned as she pulled the paper off, wondering what it could be. She was slightly shocked to see a cassette sitting in her thin hands. Written on the cassette box were the words "Listen to me".

Blowing off the cassette player in her music system, she popped the tape in and hit play. She heard a bird chirp from beyond her dark curtains. She sat down on the edge of her bed and listened, the black paper still in her hands.

Suddenly, a voice came from her speakers.

"I know this may seem incredibly cliché, and lame, and it's not the kind of music you like at all, but… I've never heard words so perfect to describe what you mean to me." She smiled. She wondered if she'd have a ghostly visitor today.

Another voice came through the speakers. Except this one was older, deeper, grainier, and… sweet. And it was singing.

"_If I was a flower growing wild and free, all I'd want is you to be my sweet honey bee. And if I were a tree growing tall and green, all I'd want is you to shade me and be my leaves…"_

A simple acoustic guitar melody began, and the singing continued. It was incredibly upbeat, simple, and cheery, and normally she _hated_ that kind of song. But this one left her slightly speechless, her hands hanging in her lap. All the verses had the same melody, and the words were a mouthful. It was the chorus that really tugged her heartstrings.

"_All I want is you, will you be my bride? Take me by the hand and stand by my side. All I want is you, will you stay with me? Hold me in your arms and sway me like the sea."_

She couldn't control the smile that was on her face. It was so simple! But so amazing. She stood up and pushed her dark curtains back, staring out at the dying sun. The warm air hugged her chilled body and she wrapped her arms around her thin frame, moving her shoulders back and forth. She couldn't help it. The melody was in her body, forcing her to move whether she wanted to or not.

For another twenty minutes or so, she continued playing and re-playing the song, rewinding it before it even reached the end. By this time she had learned most of the words and was singing along gently, watching the sun past all the trees and buildings.

She eventually became so lost in her thoughts that she forgot to stop the tape and rewind it when the song ended. She stood at her window, her thoughts drifting around and around, until a voice broke her thoughts.

"I heard this song this morning while going to school, and I realized just how much I missed you. You've been sick for a couple days now, and even not seeing you for that long… it's kinda pathetic, really." She smiled. "Anyway, I realized that I'd never be able to express things much like this guy, so I let him do it. I… I love you. Happy anniversary."

The tape clicked off. She turned, her mouth open in surprise. She hadn't listened to the whole thing and she almost missed this message at the end. Her cheeks were flushed, she knew. But the sweetness in the song was like a cavity that she didn't mind. It hit her in her heart, and even though it was sickeningly sweet, she didn't mind it. It was sweet in a different way.

"Love ya," she whispered, rewinding the tape again.

"_If you were the wood, I'd be the fire… if you were the love, I'd be the desire. If you were a castle, I'd be your moat, and if you were an ocean, I'd learn to float..."  
_

* * *

_I loved Juno. And I love this song! Sorry for being dead forever, although this doesn't make up for it much... I'm planning on drawing something for this. This song just makes me think of colors.  
_


	45. Neighborhoods

**Neighborhoods**

**

* * *

**

"Is your truck all right?" The stony-faced, black-haired teenager looked up at his neighbor as she sat beside him on the old porch swing, her gentle manicured fingers trailing over the faded auburn paint. She pushed her blazing hair behind her ears, and a light golden hue danced through it as the sun set. The boy smiled, his blue eyes lightening. The book he was holding in his hands was placed beside him, his mind far from it.

"I think so," he said, glancing out into his driveway. His old truck was up on cinderblocks, waiting for his brother to replace missing parts from underneath. He had suffered a minor accident, but on his ancient truck, a minor accident meant major damage.

"We may be walking for the rest of our senior year," he said, pulling his bare feet up into a cross-legged position. He sighed.

"Jack, it's okay," the girl said, smiling at him. Jack's eyes glistened.

"I know, Nattie, I know," he said. "It'll be like junior high again, right?" The two laughed heartily at the idea. They fell into silence as a soft breeze blew through the early June evening. They only had a week and a half of high school left, and then they were off to completely different parts of the country. It was hard to deal with.

"It's gonna be weird, not having you as a neighbor, Jack," Nattie said finally. Jack gave a half-smile.

"Natasha Rosenfeld, are you reminiscing on me?" he said playfully. Nattie smiled as she looked down at her hands. "Your nails look pretty."

"Thanks," she said. "I sent in my acceptance to NYU today." Jack said nothing. "Have you decided where you're going?"

"...yeah, I think so," he said, moving his body so the swing moved a little bit.

"So... is it Boston?" she asked tenderly. Jack chuckled and shook his head.

"This family can't afford that," he said. "Wisconsin."

"Wisconsin State?"

"Yup."

There was silence on the porch swing. The sign hanging on the steps that had been painted so many years ago with the name _Fenton_ swung gently, hitting the porch with a soft _thump._

"We're both going so far," Nattie said, although she sighed it more than said it. Jack nodded.

"No more California for us, huh?" he said. Nattie chuckled.

"I wouldn't be so sure," she said. She looked around her at the old house, across the bushes to her own faded house. "Maybe no more Petersville, but not necessarily California."

"You thinking of coming back here?" Jack asked. Nattie shrugged.

"Maybe. I'm assuming things won't work out with my next _suitor_ in New York, so I'll probably want to come back here." Jack raised his eyebrows.

"Suitor? Another guy? Who's this one?" he asked. Nattie sighed.

"Through my grandparents, of course. They have all the wealthy connections in the city and I guess they know this family – they have a young son, our age – and he needs a 'suitable, beautiful, Jewish wife'." Nattie made a gagging motion and shook her head. Her hair loosened from her ears and fell around her shoulders, the curls bouncing gently.

"What's his name?" Jack asked out of curiosity.

"Benjamin Manson."

"Jesus."

"Yeah," Nattie stressed. She blew her hair out of her face. "I guess he's really nice but, I don't know. I've never been too keen on the city life of the rich Jews."

"Well... you _are_ a rich Jew," Jack said. Nattie turned and saw the glint in his eye, the familiar glow that had taunted her throughout her childhood for so long.

"My grandparents are rich Jews," Nattie corrected. "My dad and I... not so much."

"You're enough," Jack offered. He placed his feet down on the porch and started the swing a little bit more.

"Becky is on a crazy baking spree and wanted to make you upside-down cake," Jack said, motioning to the house behind him.

"I heard that," his elder sister called from inside the house.

"Go back to the TV Becky, and stop spying on us," Jack called back into the house.

"Thank you Becky!" Nattie yelled out, and the two laughed on the porch swing that they had known their entire life. Nattie giggled as she calmed down and pulled her feet up to the seat, facing Jack. Jack grinned.

"So, when we're all grown up and you have your PhD and I have my Business degree, we have to share success stories," Nattie said, her eyes twinkling. "Dr. John M. Fenton, PhD. It sounds fancy."

"Yeah, maybe. We'll see," Jack said. Nattie glanced at the clock on the porch and sighed.

"Well, it's almost eight. Dad will want to watch the Price is Right, as always," she said, although she made no motions to leave. Jack leaned forward and kissed her cheek, as he always did. And as he did, Nattie's heart leapt and she forced it back down into her throat. Jack's hand was cupped under her chin, and he traced the shape of her face with his finger. In an instant, he pulled her towards him and kissed her lips, another thing that happened frequently. It was almost practically inevitable; two young children, both from well-to-do families, growing up next-door. One day they'd get married and have babies and live in California.

But fate wasn't like that.

Nattie placed her hands on Jack's chest and opened her eyes.

"I have to go," she said, sliding her feet into her shoes and walking down the front steps. As she reached the bottom she waved, fixing her skirt, and walked across the grounds, through the bushes, and into the lightly-painted yellow house next-door, leaving an 18-year-old Jack Fenton behind.

Jack leaned forward on his palms, staring after her.

"Bye," he whispered.

* * *

_Heyo! Sorry I've been gone forever, and sorry all I have to show for it is a fic that doesn't star any of the main characters. I came up with this weird idea the other day that Jack Fenton and Sam's mother (here named Natasha Rosenfeld) knew each other growing up, but then grew extremely apart through college and didn't realize they lived in the same town years later until their children became friends. I kind of imagined it that Sam's mom couldn't stand the Fentons because she couldn't stand realizing she had become something that was less than ideal and maybe she had made some mistakes she didn't want to admit. I think too much about children's cartoons. Anyways, I have no excuse for being gone for two years... just life, I guess._


	46. The End

**The End**

**

* * *

**We're here now. We dated, we fell in love. But we also fought.

It happened just as our fights normally progressed; I was hunting something, he showed up. I was full of energy and happiness, and I was ready to finish him. I had a weapon that I knew would shatter his very ghostly form. Something so powerful that even his dead body would feel the effects.

But he wasn't fighting back. He was holding back. He was mocking me and my abilities! So many thoughts ran through my head. It was February. Valentine's Day is in just a few days. Even though I never normally celebrated it, it was still a time I could spent with Danny.

And this _punk_ was making fun of me!

Well, I wasn't having it.

I gave the death blow. And in an attempt to shield himself, he instinctively shot an ectoblast – a powerful ectoblast – from his hands, right at me.

I knew that I had gotten him.

And he had gotten me.

I fell to the ground, blood bubbling from my shoulder where he hit me. The snow around me deepened in crimson. But I didn't care. I watched as he wavered near me, a green, slime-like substance spouting from his neck. He fell to his knees, leaning over, trying to remain in his ethereal form. But he was going right back to _hell_.

That's what I _thought_.

As he leaned over, his ghostly blood turning his shoulders, his neck, his arms, his chest bright green, a searing white light encircled his body. It made its way from his waist up over his shoulders and down by his feet.

And before me, Danny, _my_ Danny, was kneeling, breathing in gasps, dark red blood pouring over his body.

That's when I realized… That's when everything that had even confused or astounded me… suddenly made sense.

_They were one._

My world came crashing down around me.

* * *

And now, we're both here.

We dated for five months.

We fought, and at the same time, we agreed.

We hated and we loved.

My entire body seemed to shake, as the stars above me began to disappear, one by one.

It's the beginning of February.

My neck is spurting blood.

Her shoulder is broken.

Our heads are right next to each other, although completely upside-down from each other.

If I turned, I'd be looking at her upside-down.

So that's what I did.

She was lying on her back, her hair around her head like a halo, her blood black. Her eyes were closed, and her breaths were small gasps.

"…Val?" I whispered, amazed I even had the strength to say that much. She didn't respond. I reached out slowly and touched her cheek.

"…I'm sorry," I whispered to her. "I… know that's not much, but… if I had more strength, I'd be on my hands and knees, begging you." I laid my hand in the snow, my arms so numb that I didn't feel the cold. I was beyond being cold by now.

She opened her eyes and turned her head slightly to face me. She lifted her arm and took my hand, and kissed my fingers. I noticed her cheeks were darker than before, from salty tears that ran down her face.

"I love you," she said. "And I hate you." She breathed deeply and stared at me, until she couldn't anymore. Her injury was bigger and worse than mine. I'm not sure when it happened, but she closed her eyes. The next thing I realized, her fingers were limp and cold to the touch All was silent as I no longer heard her breaths.

She had left me here.

That is, until it became so hard to breathe, that I couldn't even gasp.

That's when all the stars disappeared into nothing.

* * *

_Wrote this... prolly in 2007. Never posted it. DxV, whatever whatever._


End file.
